The art of taxidermy

By Lindsay Whitehurst

Pendleton — “It’s really an art more than a job,” is how Aaron Goen views his occupation as a taxidermist.

The walls of his central Indiana shop are lined with deer heads, some looking straight ahead, others turned to the side. He stuffed one full animal, a white doe, and it sits with feet tucked under itself on a spot of grass.

“It’s really a pride thing for hunters,” he said. “It’s a trophy.”

An avid deer hunter with about a dozen trophies of his own, Goen began training in taxidermy in January.

“I said, ‘That sounds easy. That’s what I want to do,’” he said. He began training under Fortville taxidermist Allen Thompson, whose business A&M; Taxidermy, he later bought out, investing about $4,000 to $5,000.

It didn’t take long for him to realize the error of its first impression. In fact, he said, taxidermy is an involved process that requires both artistry and technical skill. He’s now stuffed about 75 animals and has about 30 on the waiting list.

The process of stuffing an animal begins in the workroom, which is located just off of the main showroom. Goen cuts the meat away from the skin on a shiny metal table, then washes it with water. To preserve it, he rubs a white powder borax preservative into the hide, then dries it in a black, drum-like metal tumbler.

The shape of a stuffed head or body comes from a Styrofoam mold. Customers can choose the position they’d like the final product to take, from a bent position to eating to looking straight ahead.

The hide is then positioned on the mold.

“That sounds easy, but that’s the hard part,” he said, because the hide must be positioned exactly on the mold to look lifelike. He has a selection of different glass eyes to use.

Another challenge is the ears. The cartilage in the ears has to be spilt, then filled in with the automotive dent repair compound Bondo and placed on a form to make them stay in a natural position.

The nose is then painted on with an airbrush.

Besides deer, Goen also stuffs fish (either the actual fish or a plastic model, depending on the fisherman’s preference), caribou, elk, bobcat, mink, opossum, or just about anything else.

Prices range from $150 for a pheasant to $700 for a full shoulder moose, $1,500 for a full bear.

Is there anything he won’t do?

“A skunk,” he said, then thinks for a minute. “Or a cat or dog. No domestic animals. Because you can’t make it look as good as they remember it.”



Lindsay Whitehurst writes for The Herald Bulletin in Anderson, Ind.

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