One frosty morning, after checking the sheep, I noticed something draped over the fence. It was a kangaroo with its leg twisted in the top wires hanging upside down. Its head had been chewed off during the night. I untangled it and put it on the ground. It had a beautiful grey skin. It seemed a pity not to skin and tan it for posterity.
Skinning a kangaroo is quite easy because there is very little fat to wade through, the meat is dry and firm and the skin itself is strong and elastic. In fact, after the first couple of incisions, the skin can be torn off like a wet suit or a sock. Having no eyes looking critically at me as I did the surgery made the job easier.
A few days later I came across a large dead wombat that had been bounced off the road by a vehicle during the previous night. Nearby was its baby. It was also dead but just looked asleep. Maybe it had been thrown out of the pouch. I had never attempted skinning a wombat, so now was the opportunity. I chose the baby. Its tiny feet were lovely and soft, totally undamaged by walking and digging. However, I soon began to wish I had walked past the corpse and let it rot because skinning was so difficult. Above the behind the skin overlaid gristle that was a centimetre thick and the two were firmly glued together. I struggled for more than half an hour before being satisfied with the cute baby, hands feet and head all nicely displayed and flattened. It tanned well, but not quite as perfectly as the kangaroo.
When Ben heard that I now had a collection of rabbits, wombat, kangaroo, sheep and Basil variously decorating chairs, walls and the floor he made a wish. He wished I wasn’t the person to find him after an accident. He reckoned it wouldn’t feel nice being skinned, stretched out and pinned to the wall for all visitors to see; an art work and long term dust catcher. I asked if I could keep his head in a small bottle.
No comments:
Post a Comment