Dead to me…

You walk into an antiques store you're unfamiliar with. You'd been drawn in by the Scandinavian-looking old chest of drawers in the front window; great patina. Old blue paint heavily distressed and those extra-large wooden knobs with all the color worn off. This is an authentically old piece with great lines. As you reach inside from the rear of the display window to flip the tag over, you get a sense you're being watched, but you can hear the shopkeeper in the next room talking on the phone. The slightest shiver runs down your spine as you turn and see it … those dead eyes boring holes in you. You're slightly startled, but this isn't your first rodeo, and you sigh a little relief when you realize it's just a deer head hanging on the wall. A few weeks ago, I was at a listing appointment for a house I was soon going to put on the market. The husband is an avid bow hunter and is quite proud of the many mounts he has on display in his home. I've seen so many over the years, particularly deer, I'm unfazed. I did advise my clients to remove the three deer mounts in their living room before we started showing the house though. They very possibly could make a prospective buyer uncomfortable and, if a family is looking at the property, the deer could scare a child. Why risk leaving a bad taste in someone's mouth? Taxidermy is both fascinating and divisive. Some people are completely opposed to what they consider to be crude trophy displays; conversely, a sportsman might think a mount is a wonderful tribute to a beautiful animal. The reasons and rationale behind taxidermy are varied and numerous and the practice of preserving animals after death goes all the way back to the Egyptians. There are tons of articles and blogs all about taxidermy online. Google AI gives a great timeline of the practice, and I really got a kick out of "A brief, gross history of taxidermy" on the Museum of Idaho's site (www.museumofidaho.org). In ancient Egypt, pets and worshipped animals were often preserved using injections, spices and oils to mummify them. They would then be buried or entombed along with their owner or the pharaoh being honored. Since the embalmed animals were not meant for display, they often barely resembled their original form. Often, excavated tombs would reveal preserved dogs, cats, monkeys, birds and once even a hippopotamus. The term taxidermy comes from the Greek word, taxis or "arrangement" and derma which is skin. So, basically skin art. A few other taxidermy terms for your next cocktail party chatter: A specimen is a full-body replica of an animal as it appeared in life while a trophy is what we see most frequently, a head mounted on a wall. A mount is a generic term that can mean either specimen or trophy. The methodology of taxidermy has evolved greatly over the years. After the period of preserving via embalming, early taxidermists used sawdust and rags to stuff their mounts, often resulting in less than lifelike results. Arsenic was also used to repel insects right up 'til the 1980s but now less toxic chemicals make the practice safer. Current taxidermists can buy animal mannequins that can be additionally sculpted to a particular animal's form which the skin is then stretched over, resulting in almost exact replicas of real animals. During the Victorian era, taxidermy was used as a learning and scientific research tool. European scientists could examine animals they'd likely never be able to see in the wild. It was also during this time that the stuffing of deceased pets began to be practiced as well as a controversial, somewhat macabre style of preservation called anthropomorphic taxidermy came to be. This is the practice of positioning the preserved animals (and sometimes dressing them) in human activities like boxing or playing in a band. No judgement here, but… Vintage taxidermy is very collectible, particularly birds and rarer mounts. I've sold a few stuffed pheasants over the years but not any mammals. My partner and I took a long weekend trip years ago to Newport, R.I. and did the cliff walk as well as a couple mansion tours. We got to see one of the strangest examples of Victorian-era taxidermy in one of the sprawling homes. In the 1800s, a bereft woman had her recently departed canary stuffed and mounted to a wire system that could be activated to come gliding down the curved staircase as if in flight and into the drawing room to visit her. Kind of clever actually. And at least she didn't have it dressed in a suit and playing a miniature piano.