The inevitable cycle of life and death

A few weeks ago, we saw a sizable lump in a field down Burgoyne, and we thought it was a log.  We went to investigate, and it was the frozen body of a dead buck.  Scavengers hadn't been able to feast on it.  We saw the skull and antlers today and decided to have another look.  The skeleton has been picked clean.  As we were walking along the trail, we smelled the unmistakable scent of a dead animal, and although it was harder to see than smell, it was a young deer carcass partially buried in forest debris.  We often see deer bones around our place.   The natural way of things.
I'm actually fascinated by skeletons, seeing the insides of things.  We butchered moose, deer, cows, lambs when we lived up north and still ate meat.  G's dad was a master hunter and G learned well from him.  I suppose if times got really tough for us, we'd eat the deer that hang around our place, but I don't like the idea of that.  We had cows and a magnificent bull when we were up north, but we could never butcher one of our own animals - they had names, of course! - and we bought sides of beef from neighbours.   I feel the same way about Old White Face and Scruffy and all the other deer that our granddaughters have named over the years.  We even kept a family tree of them!