No. 130, February, 2010
Journal
Shooting Squirrels
By Russell Miller
My brother Carl was the hunter of the family. Single shot twelve gauge gun loaded with bird shot. We lived in the Shady Grove area of the Township of Helvetia. Fox Terrior hunting dog named Mickey. Pursuing and yelping at squirrels round and round a tree, so Carl could get a good shot off. Often blasted the squirrels to kingdom come.
Neighbors in back near the Whitcomb Creek were the Carlson family and their son Stanley and Carl were hunting companions. Stanley had a 410 Winchester rifle to hunt squirrels. Carl and Stanley eventually married twin sisters, Rose and Ruth Begrow of Dupont.
Every autumn Stanley and Carl would hunt squirrels, amongst the oak trees, after the leaves were off the trees and the squirrels were fat from feasting on acorns. Finding their nests. A good Sunday hunt produced maybe three or four squirrels. Mother would skin them, saving the tails, washed in ice water and fried on the wood cookstove in the big black iron skillet.
One squirrel made a good meal for one person, and I loved to eat squirrel, it was a real treat. The tails were precious in they showed what a good hunter one was, they were hung on car antennas, the back of caps. The more squirrel tails, the more prestige.
Only a seventy year old memory, the hunting of squirrels. Carl and Stanley have gone to the Great Hunting Woods in Heaven. The squirrels run free in the oak woods with no fear of hunters. Road kill is their biggest problem.
copyright 2010, Russell and Delores Miller