Monday, September 15, 2008

"Men Nabbed With Squirrels Tucked In Odd Places"




When I read this headline I chuckled and thought "wardens done caught my brothers!" Squirrel hunting was the end all be all for the boys back where I came from. Soon as boys were old enough to shoot a gun without dislocating their shoulders, dads would haul 'em out to the back forty and teach 'em how to shoot squirrels. The more squirrel tails you had hangin' around your room. off your cap, or even hidden in your school notebook, the more you were on your way to being a man, if you were a guy that is. A gal with all that git up simply had a boy friend who was on his way to becoming a man. It meant she was gonna grow up to cook real good squirrel stew which is an art form unto itself. (Hint: Ever eaten hair soup? Don't serve squirrel stew unless you know that know you can make it right!)

Now, I was lucky and my brother gave me a squirrel tail. I took it to school to gross out my friends and impress the cute country boys; I figured they'd think I had taken out a squirrel which would likely mean I'd be kinda fun to hang out with. I took the squirrel tail out of my coat pocket at recess and started twirling it around and sure 'nuff, up walked my cute hopefuls. They asked to see it so I handed the tail over and was all proud when one commented about the size of the thing. Another asked if I had used a 22 or a pellet gun. A third kid quickly came to my rescue by handing the squirrel tail back and said, "Smell it." Without answering the caliber of the gun question, which would have led to a lie or the truth, both of which would have doomed me, I smelled it.


Don't remember much after that. Laughter, name calling such as "sissy girl," and a lot of gagging. I gagged 'til the tears rolled. Lotsa painful dry heaves. Dead animals stink. So do their tails.

Never dated any of them fellers. And I still to this very day think that them mean rats were extremely lucky that I chose to show off my squirrel tail the recess before lunch!

Title and link belong to CBS13.
comments copyright: c.jacobs 9/15/2008 All rights reserved.


















1 comment:

9to5to9 said...

Oh my God, the memories you're resurrecting!

I never did get into dead animal parts, though for some reason my stepdad liked to hand them out to us girls like they were the Hope Diamond. Now I'm getting the idea that it's a cultural tradition I simply wasn't familiar with -- a compliment, actually. I feel the need to call and apologize.

Oh, and squirrel stew -- can't do that! Not after I once saw the little guys naked and decapitated on the kitchen counter, waiting for their dip in the Dutch oven.

(((Shuddder))) Some visual memories stick with you!