Squirrel Season: an Opening Day Experience
Posted: Sunday, October 16, 2011
by Jack H. Schick
My wife is real picky sometimes. Other times she’s a slacker. A few days ago I found a piece of cheesy-macaroni on the kitchen chair when I pulled it out; two days after we had it at supper. But, if I leave one piece of fur under the table or one drop of blood in the sink or on the cutting board when I clean and butcher game animals, she gets down right hostile. If I’m trimming fat off a piece of beef, she doesn’t say a thing about the blood, but now, I have to go up to the dollar store and buy a new cutting board.
After a long work week, I sure could have slept in a few extra hours, but I was up well before sunrise. I felt a little guilty because I didn’t take my dogs along. I’ve only had one gun dog who was a good squirrel hunter, and he’s gone now. They’re pretty much exclusively bird hunters and would just cause trouble as I ‘sat’ or stalked for squirrels. I needed to get at least a few of them for the Game Feed at Deer Camp. I loaded the guns in the Jeep and got my cloths out of the gun room the night before so the dogs would think I was just going to work in the morning.
As is usual for opening day, I got to my buddy’s place way too early and sat in the Jeep listening to the news for twenty minutes until it was light enough to see. My buddy is in Mexico or some place for a week so I was hunting right around his house. His place is deep in the woods. He constantly complains about the squirrels in his sheds and barn, and even in the attic of his house. He’s even given me permission to shoot them right off the roof, which, of course I haven’t done--yet.
It wasn't cold. The sunrise was not particularly nice, from what I could see of it through the trees. The eastern sky was just yellow. I took up a position standing on a rock, leaning against a tree behind the barn. I was armed with a 20 gauge, semi-automatic shotgun. It was loaded with high brass, #6 shot. The woods was still mostly green. Some trees had begun to turn and shed, though. The forest floor and the driveways were covered with fallen leaves. The undergrowth was still thick and I couldn’t see very far.
After about fifteen minutes I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye. It was at about waist level maybe 30 yards off. I was expecting to see a squirrel up higher in a tree or on the ground, so I was curious. It moved again. As I watched the head of a deer appeared from behind a bush. It slowly walked toward me. The whole body emerged. It was a nice size doe. She meandered a few more yards toward me and stopped, oblivious to me standing there in blaze orange cloths with a gun.
I watched her for more than five minutes. She didn’t seem nervous but was wary. Coming from down the hill I heard what I thought was another deer snort. Her interest confirmed it. She looked that way and snorted herself. After all, it is the beginning of rutting season. She turned and just stood, looking off down the hill for a few more minutes. I thought to myself, if I was deer hunting I’d certainly have one. It would have been hard to miss with any kind of a firearm, and not too tough of an archery shot, either.
A few minutes later, in a tree only a few yards from her, two squirrels began playfully scurrying around the trunk. I pulled up my shotgun, aimed but didn’t shoot. They were moving too quickly and unpredictably. The deer couldn’t help but see them, too. They circled around the trunk a few times then went up and out onto a branch about 20 feet up. They closed on each other, nose to nose, and stopped. I shot.
The deer didn’t move when the gun went off, just stood there; and, for the first time in my life, I got a ‘two-fer.’ One squirrel immediately dropped. When it hit the ground in front of her, the doe bolted and was out of sight in a split second. The other squirrel clung to the branch. I was ready to shoot again, but as I aimed, it fell, too. It was an experience to remember—the pleasure of watching the doe, then bagging two squirrels with one shot is something that doesn’t happen often in a hunter’s lifetime.
Over the next couple of hours I bagged two more squirrels (with four shots), and missed three shots a two others. I could have stuck around longer and filled my bag limit of six, but I wanted to get home, pick up the dogs and take them duck hunting. Like I said, I felt guilty leaving them at home. They live for the hunt, too.
It was a warm day, so I figured I’d better get the squirrels cleaned first. Sometimes that can be a chore, especially after they're dead for a while. They can be hard to skin. While I worked on them, the dogs sat around the table eagerly waiting for me to toss them a heart or liver. I usually give them a squirrel tail to play with, too. The young guy (this is his first hunting season and he hasn’t learned all the rules yet), took it into the living room and shredded it on the carpet. That’s what got my wife got into her bad mood, I think.
I checked carefully. There was not one piece of fur lying around, not one drop of blood anywhere. I’d bundled up all the “leftovers” in newspaper, put it in a plastic bag and took it out to the trashcan. After I chopped up the carcasses with a hammer and cleaver, I put the squirrel pieces in a bowl of salty water to soak for a day or two. I was really careful that it was completely covered and not visible when she opened the refrigerator door. I scrubbed the knives and cutting board with scouring powder and sloshed some bleach around in the sink.
It didn’t help. When the dogs and I headed out to try to get some ducks she said, “Have fun. Don’t shoot anything.” She wants me to go buy another cutting board, too.
p.s. We didn't get any ducks. I'm sort of glad. Feathers are tougher to clean up than fur.
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Top-level comments on this article: (2 total)How was the taste of the squirrels, Jack ? I have tasted only deer meat so far and I think I am not too into venison these days, honestly.
One stone can really kill 2 birds is true.Tahnks for reading and commenting
Is it really true you can kill squirrels with flying bark chipped by bullets into their heads, or is that just a city boy listening too hard with Coors in his belly?
And did you hear the one about the reason the Cajuns couldn't hit no ducks from de swamp, is because they looked up and there was one in a bunch, and three all by themselves. They shoot, and they miss, and they hit em in the same place. Dumb duck didn't even know dey was dead.
GREAT ARTICLE.I imagine you can kill them that way.
My friend and I have shot the same goose in a flock a few times
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