How did I not know this?

My husband has a really sick sense of humor and our youth pastor is encouraging it to blossom out of control.

They are out shooting prairie dogs as we speak. Notice that I don't say poor, defenseless prairie dogs like I would say if I were speaking about baby deer or other such specimens of cuteness. I do not have strong sympathy for the small dog of the prairie; they hurt our farmers out here and there is no love loss between the farmer and the prairie dog. I simply pick people over vermin.

Anywho- our men's ministry is hosting it's second annual Wild Game Feast and Sportsman's Competition. This is the event where they get together with several other churches in Colorado and make much of being a man. Lots of manly grunting surely must take place. They have two-man log sawing competitions, ax-throwing contests, some kind of knock-the-other-guy-off-the-log competition, and exotic game meat to sample. In the past they've had the usual deer and elk along with buffalo, rattlesnake, ostrich, bear, antelope, and this year... prairie dog... courtesy of my husband and the youth pastor. Here's how our conversation went:

Him (looking like a little kid): Guess what? Farmer Boyd is letting us onto his property to shoot prairie dogs! He says we can shoot as many as we want- he really needs to get rid of them! We're making prairie dog stew for the Wild Game feast!

Me (casually): Huh. Don't prairie dogs carry the bubonic plague?

Him (thinking quickly on his feet): Don't worry! We'll just cook it extra long! It'll boil right out.

Me: You're going to boil out the bubonic plague?

Him: Yeah. You got a good stew recipe?

And this is the point where I was my hands of this. Any outbreaks of bubonic plague or other such illnesses, no matter which orifice they choose to make their exit from... even if such exit is from a point of origin within my own husband... my hands are clean and will remain as such.

Should I call Church Mutual Insurance... just to give them a heads up?