My dad and I had just returned from goose hunting when he said, since I had shot my .
first goose this time out; I would have to clean it.
The first thing my father told me was to get a big stack of newspapers. Therefore, I went over to the pile in the corner and got as many newspapers as I could carry. Then dad told me to spread them out over the table in the basement. Once I had spread the newspapers out on the table, being careful to cover the entire table. My dad said to get the very sharp knife out of the drawer under the table. I had seen my father use that knife numerous times and knew that it was very dangerous!.
After retrieving the knife, dad would inform me that I needed to cut off the goose's head.
So very timidly, I laid the knife across the neck. Pushing firmly down as I drew the knife toward.
me until it went all the way through to the table and then proceeded to run around the basement!.
At this point, the only thing I could think of to do was to shoot the goose again. I ran to the top of the stairs to grab my shotgun. I noticed that my father and uncle were laughing, so hard that they both had tears in their eyes.
Dad stopped me as I reached the top of the stairs. Where he told me that the bird's nerves,.
in addition to its tendon's, were just reacting to being cut in two. This was a normal reaction is what he told me. Once the goose stopped flopping around on the floor, I picked the headless bird up and I returned it to the newspaper-covered table. .
The next procedure was to pull the goose's wings out away from the body stretching the wings so that I could spread them out across the table. After doing that, my dad said I needed to use the knife to cut off the wings. Therefore, with the same technique I used cut off the head I cut off the wings. However, the snapping of the bones made my skin crawl.
Following that, I had to pluck all of the remaining feathers off the goose's body.
