My Dad's friend said he ate so much jackrabbit during the depression that couldn't hockey out in the pasture. When he would squat down to go he would just hop off.
My Dad's hunting buddy Mr. Page had a unique method of field dressing. If he encontered a cottontail while out bird hunting he would shoot it in the head. They he would massage the abdomen. Then, holding the front feet, would snap it like a bullwhip and send all the innards out through the anus.
I grew up on a farm and Mom would fry them up like fried chicken with cream gravy. My gun of choice was a single shot bolt action 22.
Best,
Mike
Edit - I changed it from "Then, holding the back feet" to "Then holding the front feet"
Last edited by AmarilloMike; 01/22/10 04:45 PM.
