I'm a bit curious how you think those yearlings were killed for sacrifice. Do you think the shepherd went, "Here, sheepy, sheepy, sheepy" "Here, goaty, goaty, goatly," and then the pasture animals came running home to be killed? Sheep may be silent when getting the ax, but they're not docile!
And, I'm going with you never had Canada goose for a holiday meal? Bummer. Thems good eats if they're young. (A bit tough when they get old.) Wild turkey is the same.
Hasenfeffer is delicious! I can't tell the difference between eating squirrel and eating rabbit, but recommend everyone try both.
Snapping turtle soup? Yum, yum! Granted, you don't need a snapper to make it, but do you really want to spend the money for 15 pounds of beef instead? (I'm assuming the shell, head and guts of a 35-pound snapping turtle reduce to only 15 pounds of meat. The shell is heavy and the head is big.)
Frog legs? If there is food in heaven, I hope it tastes as good as frog legs! That was one meal even we kids could hunt successfully for. And hunting, was most certainly part of the meal.
We also were in charge of crabbing for dinner too. Granted, an easy hunt, but those little suckers were definitely going to fight us as we tossed them in the basket.
Quail! Delicious, but a real pain to prepare. It felt like just as much work as pheasant, except two pheasants could feed a family of six, and a good dozen quails were needed for that same family. Quail was a little more tender, but both were delicious.
Eel! Can't recommend it, but probably because Dad deep fried it to death. It felt and tasted like a bicycle tire.
Sunnies, perch, and catfish. My favorites. A better fight in the fish was pike, large-mouth, and smallmouth -- in that order. It was sport, because those fish didn't want to be dinner either.
Duck! If you want a fatty coating on your duck, then by all means, go for farm raised, but mallard, teal, and the like are better tasting.
Venison. (Mouth drool, just thinking about venison tenderloin. Almost want to puke remembering the ribs.)
This is how I grew up! Two nights a week, we got grocery-store meat for dinner. The other nights were the good dinners.
I don't hunt, because I don't have the heart to kill Squirrel Nutkin, Peter Rabbit, or Jeremima Puddleduck. And, living in the city now, my neighbors would get upset if I missed. (I'd probably hit them and the squirrel in the same shot our houses are so close together. lol)
But I am wondering how unrealistic people are to think hunting only means "trophy-hunting." I've seen 14-point deer head on a wall. I've seen 40-pound pike and 16-pound pickerel on a wall. But I knew that hunter. Those were the trophy-worthy game. All the rest went through his, his family's, and a few friends' stomach for dinner.
How distant have you become not to get, you're eating hunted meat every day. Daisy the Cow and Porky Pig aren't volunteering to climb onto your dinner plate.