A Coon of A Tail

Every year Mother and I (ok, usually only Mother) go to a Family Thanksgiving Dinner with our cousins on my Grandfather's side. They usually hold it in either the town hall or their church. It is a pretty normal meal with Turkey, Dressing, Macaroni and Cheese, Roasted Raccoon, Ham,Candied Yams... you know the usual Thanksgiving fare.

I'm going to give you a moment to find the thing that doesn't belong.......
If you said Raccoon then you are CORRECT!

Every year my cousin proudly graces the table with a small greasy pan of meat. Well, I'm sure that at one point it had meat on it. By the time we get to it it; there is just a pile of bones floating on grease (Which may explain the family's high blood pressure and cholesterol).

The first time I saw it, Mother pointed it out to me. We were standing at a table loaded with various questionable country dishes. Mother was identifying some of the dishes to me when she pointed to the greasy pan. "That's raccoon". I recalled how mother had once told me that she didn't eat raccoon because it looked like a cooked dog. Looking at the remaining bones, I had to agree.

That wasn't good enough for mother. She had to ask, "Who made the raccoon"? One of the cousins, who will remain nameless, walked over to Mother. "I made it. I guess I should have brought two. I wasn't expecting it to go so fast." Yeah, you and me both.

We finished making our plates and sat at one of the tables. While we were making our way around the room, I kept glancing at plates trying to find the poor souls that chose to eat the raccoon. I still haven't discovered their identities, which is probably for the best.

If the thought of raccoon for Thanksgiving wasn't bad enough, the dinner conversation at our table was worse. We had the misfortune to sit with several older members of the family who thought they should reminiscence on wildlife meals of yore. They started with wild turkeys and made their way down the wildlife list to possum. The topic of possum made mother pipe in with her mother's opinion of possum. "Now Momma wouldn't eat possum. She said it was because you always find possums in graveyards." Now this statement led to a discussion on where to hunt for possums. I don't think I have to tell you I didn't eat much of the meal. Partly because of the dinner conversation and because some of the country folks not being able to cook.

I endured a few more family Thankgiving dinners before I stopped going. I realized that sometimes the best way to give thanks for family is staying away. Mother still goes and she tells me about whatever new mystery dish was added to the table. The cousin still brings one raccoon which is always picked clean by the time she gets to it. She talks about who was there this year, who is feuding with the family and other family gossip. All while she makes herself a plate of the hen casserole she made earlier for us. It is during these moments, I truly give thanks for my family.

Happy Thanksgiving!