Jeanne, your post is sooo funny. I remember Grandma would cook chicken blood and "the boys" would act like it was steak. Can't say I ever tried that. I recall Uncle Morris did a fair amount of hunting and would come over with rabbits and mushrooms from his trips.
In the summer I would routinely be rooting around the freezer for a popsicle and end up pulling out a skinned rabbit always frozen in mid-leap. And my mom wondered why I never believed her when she told me "it's chicken".
That said, I am a big fan of rabbit now, but haven't run across any buckshot since I ate it on Truesdale.
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