When you got to have that flesh…
I can’t remember how young I was when I first yearned for the taste of raw meat.
Of course, like all babies, I started off on milk. Then different types of cooked meat as I got older, with some other bits thrown in for variety. Vegetables, rice, biscuits. But when ever there was a Sunday dinner and the uncooked joint of lamb or beef was taken out of the fridge and was being prepared to go in the oven, the smell would literally make me drool. Still, I had to keep eating the cooked stuff.
One day that all changed…
The whole family was out for an afternoon walk in the woods on Christmas afternoon. It was a beautiful winter’s day. The sun was shinning and the breeze blowing across my face.
Suddenly, I saw a small group of rabbits in a clearing nibbling the sweet grass shoots. Something inside me snapped. I immediately took off, sprinting up the slope, adrenalin fuelling my legs. The bunnies scattered in every direction, but one adult was slower, older.
I didn’t care.
I pounced.
Like a wild thing.
Tearing into the critter, my teeth gashed through the skin as I ripped and gouged the raw, bloody flesh from the bones.
Gnawing, chewing, chomping, until only the furry scut was left.
The scent and the taste of the blood, as I devoured the small creature, sent me into a frenzy. Indeed, it was a good few minutes before I was able to focus and hear my owner shouting,
“Rover! Bad dog. Leave the poor little bunnies alone.”
Great story, and great reminder. Merry Christmas, my friend! <3
~ Marie xox