My dad, it is fair to say, was a bit of a hoarder.
He kept a lot of stuff that my mum, who often referred to other people’s things as “clutter”, or “dust-traps”, would happily have cleared out at the drop of a hat.
My dad, being reasonably savvy in the preservation of his stuff, didn’t want it to become a bone of contention. He therefore kept most of it well out of Mum’s line of vision; either stashed in the garage, or else up in his eyrie (the loft conversion built to keep him out from under my mum’s feet when he retired.)
Being a microscopist, Dad had a lot of specialist stuff. Sometimes, he had fascinatingly repellent experiments on the go upstairs, with the intention of examining the results under the microscope. These things were just part of childhood for my sister and I.
After my parents died, clearing out Dad’s chemicals, books, scientific and hi-fi equipment, electrical circuitry parts and so on was quite a job.
One of the last things to be cleared was Dad’s desk. In it were perhaps the two most unusual items of all of his stashed stuff.
The first was a box of smoke bombs. I was too scared of them to just throw them away, fearing explosive consequences. (I have the feeling they still lurk at the back of our understairs cupboard. I am too frightened to look.)
The second was a small glass jar containing a multitude of tiny, almost identical and most definitely real bones.
Yes, bones.
My sister refers to them as “mouse femurs”, which is a not-at-all unreasonable description.
Although I hasten to add that actually, I have absolutely no idea what sort of creature these bones were from.
Dad’s mouse femur jar has sat atop the fridge-freezer in our kitchen since it came to us. I have no idea how or why it ended up there, just as I have had, up until now, no clue as to what to do with the contents.
But yesterday, having made a second mouse that ended up turning into a puppy, the thought occurred to me that perhaps a bone from Dad’s jar might be a suitable accessory for the little fellow.
However, that bone could represent a bone of contention. Which is the possibility that people could be freaked out by a creature holding a real bone.
So I put this to you in all seriousness – please do let me know what you think on the matter, since I’m really not sure.
I fear that, as my father’s daughter, I may have been desensitised to such stuff. ♥
Ha ha, I love the thought of these bones being kept for so long and now inspiring you!
Is there any chance they could be from a chicken, not a mouse? To answer your question, I would not be put off buying a mouse/dog//glorious creature if they happen ed to have a mini bone about their person. Keep up the good work!
They could easily be from chickens Christina (more than one animal’s remains are in that jar, since the bones are all identical!). I actually have no idea what creatures they are from, as I never saw the jar or its contents when Dad was alive. I only wish I could ask him where they came from!
Great post and I love the photo of the jar of bones! I am not squeamish about the bones and I like the dark twist of the mouse with a real mouse bone, but I don’t feel it quite fits. Maybe you could work on something the other way round ie with the bone/s as a starting point?
Well, the creature started off as a mouse, but ended up being finished as a puppy, as to me it sort of morphed into one as I made it. Or at least, that was my intention. Perhaps he just doesn’t look doggy enough!
Wonderful. I wouldn’t be freaked out but when I was given a taxidermy white mouse last year my husband freaked out. I wanted to use it as a surprise display element – poking out of old typewriters and such like but apparently there are folk who, while appearing totally rational may become quite traumatised by such delightful mischief! ( Did you know the collective noun for mice is a “mischief”?) . Love the thought that you have a bottle of mischief!
I am not freaked out by taxidermy, but I wouldn’t want to buy any or have it in my house. I think there’s something quite strange about people wanting to keep dead, preserved animals on display in their entirety, although admittedly this is somewhat at odds with keeping a jar of real bones on top of the fridge! For me the bones are a reminder of the idiosyncratic and at times eccentric individual that was my Dad, and as they are decades old and entirely sterile, they are sort of devoid of any gruesomeness.
I think the history of the bones makes it a sweet story, but if I didn’t know the background and wanted to buy this for a child, it would definitely put me off.
That was sort of my worry. The idea is to put the creatures into box frames to put on the wall, and I imagine that some will end up in children’s rooms. So maybe the bone is a step too far?
I wouldn’t be freaked out and I know for certain that my sons in their early twenties, would think this was brilliant!
Personally, it doesn’t bother me, but I can see that others might find it a trifle macabre… It’s probably highly specific. A great use of the bones, but maybe something more personal to you would cause fewer problems? A mouse bone chandelier or lampshade? Mouse bone tree ornaments… Well, you get the idea.
I think it’s perfect for a little boy or an outdoorsy rough & tumble girl like myself!
i am totally squeamish, love the little dog and if the bone were plastic or wood i could do that, but real bones, ugh ! don’t like fur and feathers either and taxidermy is a total no no. total softy …