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I was eight when my dad started teaching me how to set snares, identify different animal tracks and how to spot a rabbit trail in the bush trails around our home in Flying Dust First Nation. Shortly after, I snared a rabbit, while my father showed me how we’d lay down tobacco and pay respect to the Creator for allowing us to eat.

With time, I learned how to set better snares by trial and error and how to read the rabbit paths in the snow. I would take the skinned rabbit to my grandmother’s place down the road, where she’d turn it into rabbit stew served with bannock.

To me, traditional native food is always more satisfying to eat, as you gain better respect for the animal after harvesting it yourself and going through the process of snaring, cleaning and watching how it is made

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