Gore

When driving into the mountains, going camping, or just walking up the street, many of our family discussions are quite gory. We really don't watch much TV, so it's not that kind of violence. It's more a variety of gore connected to animals and where we live. So, walking around on a beautiful late summer evening, here is a sampling of what we talk about, some with almost rabid interest:

What would a mama deer do if you got too close to it?

What would happen if you got too close to a mountain lion?

What if a mountain lion got in your tent? Or a mama moose? Or a tiger?

What would a tiger do to you if it were mad?

What's worse? Being attacked by a mama moose or a mountain lion?

What's worse? Being attacked by a mama mountain lion or a tiger?

Which would hurt worse? Mountain lion claws or tiger claws?

Which one would win, a mama moose or a mountain lion?

Which one would win, a mountain lion or a tiger?

Which one would win, a tiger or a mama lion?

Which would you prefer: To die in a fire or falling down a mountain?

Which would you prefer: To die in a fire or freeze to death?

Which would you prefer: A sword cutting your brain or your heart?

Which would you prefer: Getting stabbed or having your brain smashed?

How 'bout our parents died in a car crash...

How 'bout your can't walk because your legs got cut off...

How 'bout your arms got cut off, too...

I am sure all these gory thoughts are perfectly natural. (Right???) But, there's no escaping. Just tonight, someone spilled something in the kitchen and I carelessly said, "Oh, it's not the end of the world." June then quickly replied, "What IS the end of the world?"

A moose we saw last weekend

A baby deer across the street today