Most of the red meat we eat in this house is venison, hunted each fall in northern Minnesota. My husband filled his tag early on the first morning of deer season this year.
Once he did, he had a bunch of friends that will probably disturb some people. The blue jays, gray jays, and magpies all flocked around him, barely able to contain their impatience until he gutted the deer and created a nice little pile of offal to feed them.
The following is a still from a short video my husband took very shortly after gutting the deer. Tucked below the fold for the squeamish. Click on the picture to get to the video.
Ben really is as close to the deer and the bird as it looks. This wasn’t the bird’s first run. The chickadee was ignoring Ben entirely in concentrating on gobbling down the lovely fresh fat the carcass offers. If he’d held out a piece in his hand, he probably could have recreated a scene from Snow White, albeit more gory.
People who think about what happens to the gut piles in hunting season tend to think of wolves and mustelids and raccoons. We forget about birds unless they get as demanding as the jays or as incautious as that chickadee.
My aunt and uncle have hung post-butchery deer carcasses off their deck as impromptu feeders. They haven’t been disappointed. Those cute little birds around you may be dinosaurs, but most of them aren’t the vegetarian sort.