Earlier this year, my maternal grandfather passed away after a couple year long fight with Parkinson's. I was lucky to grow up less than a mile away from him for my entire life, working alongside him in his garden, taking care of cows, moving sprinklers, and working on his projects with him. He was a man that nobody ever spoke ill of, and his memorial service was the busiest I've ever seen in my entire life.
He grew up in Central Utah, taking care of cows and fishing and hunting, and took every chance he could to teach us about the outdoors. For his entire life, he has had a 6-point bull hanging on the wall. It fell off the fireplace mantle back in the 90's and the antlers broke, but he had it repaired. He always complained that when it was repaired, the taxidermist made the bull narrower than he was when he killed him. But either way, he's a good bull.
I spoke up when they mentioned "throwing the antlers away" as we've cleaned out the house, and I looked at them and said "the hell you are." I told them I would happily take them and hang them in my front room, so they allowed me to take them home.
This bull was killed in an era prior to any type of "trophy quality management" in Utah. Spikes and raghorns were the breeding stock, and if you were lucky enough to kill a branch antlered bull, you'd probably make the front page of the state newspaper. This bull was (supposedly) the largest one killed in the state that year, and was the equivalent of a 400-incher in today's world. Grandpa was humble about his harvest and never was one to brag, but he always smirked anytime we spoke about hunting elk in central Utah.
What do the rest of you do with old taxidermy or "family" pieces? Do they hold any sentimental value for any of you, or do you just let them go with the rest of the estate?
For those wondering, I rough scored him right at 300 at midnight the day I brought him to my house.
He grew up in Central Utah, taking care of cows and fishing and hunting, and took every chance he could to teach us about the outdoors. For his entire life, he has had a 6-point bull hanging on the wall. It fell off the fireplace mantle back in the 90's and the antlers broke, but he had it repaired. He always complained that when it was repaired, the taxidermist made the bull narrower than he was when he killed him. But either way, he's a good bull.
I spoke up when they mentioned "throwing the antlers away" as we've cleaned out the house, and I looked at them and said "the hell you are." I told them I would happily take them and hang them in my front room, so they allowed me to take them home.
This bull was killed in an era prior to any type of "trophy quality management" in Utah. Spikes and raghorns were the breeding stock, and if you were lucky enough to kill a branch antlered bull, you'd probably make the front page of the state newspaper. This bull was (supposedly) the largest one killed in the state that year, and was the equivalent of a 400-incher in today's world. Grandpa was humble about his harvest and never was one to brag, but he always smirked anytime we spoke about hunting elk in central Utah.
What do the rest of you do with old taxidermy or "family" pieces? Do they hold any sentimental value for any of you, or do you just let them go with the rest of the estate?
For those wondering, I rough scored him right at 300 at midnight the day I brought him to my house.