Stuff it

When I was a kid our family went on vacations every summer. Money was always tight so it was never fancy. We'd pile into the car and go for 2-3 weeks. We often camped. We traveled up and down the West Coast, and stayed at Lassen Natl Park, Mt Rainier, Crater Lake.
One year, my paternal grandmother moved to Lawton Oklahoma, and so we started driving there from central California. We'd travel on Route 66. What always impressed me, at the truck stops and curio shops were the taxidermist displays. You'd see everything from bobcats to rattlers, always imortalized into the most threatening position the taxidermist could arrange.
I was so impressed, with the work they did, that I thought it would be a cool way to make a living.
When I was around 11 years old, I saw an ad in a comic book or Boys Life for a correspondence course for learning to be a taxidermist. I could see my future...mounting the neighbors prize deer on a plaque for their den, or perhaps my uncles swordfish from the Caribbean
I must say, that my parents were quite the good sports. They went ahead and bought me the course. I was so excited, I couldn't wait for the first lesson to arrive. In no time, I'd be well on my way in the fun and lucrative field of taxidermy.
Lesson one arrived, and I wasted no time getting into it.
The first lesson was to stuff a pigeon. It had never occurred to me that a dead pigeon didn't come in the deal. No, I was required to provide my own pigeon. They said to buy one at a pet store. Of course I was given a couple of methods to choose from to kill project one.
Needless to say, my parents did not have to pay for the next lesson.