For my upcoming birthday my mother gave me a caribou hide. As an urban Métis, my knowledge of what to do with such an item is limited. It is sitting in my kitchen as a kind of riddle. I don't need it for food or shelter. I have no connection with caribou the way I do with some other animals. It is quintessentially untamed, yet captured as a background to domestic life. The other parts of animals that have come into my life were brought there with a specific purpose and mostly in small pieces. Tamed and accounted for. This is raw. This is thought food.