There’s reportedly a desire to see squirrels romp and play in one of the city parks here on the High Plains.
There’s a bunch of the critters in one of the city’s tree-shaded subdivisions. Folks are reportedly considering trapping some of the bushy tailed acrobats from that section of town and taking them to the park. This won’t involve box traps manned by “barefoot boys with cheeks of tan” and long lengths of string. No, it reportedly will be done the way things are done here in the future with pages of government forms and folks in Wildlife Department uniforms.
How the squirrels came to town is interesting. It’s said someone who moved here from far away missed the romping and playing of the critters in his life so he brought a couple to town. The boy and girl squirrel did what boy and girl squirrels do and, ‘kaboom,’ squirrels! Apparently no one consulted the government about the squirrel importation.
I grew up with squirrels all around me; there they’d be zipping from tree limb to tree limb around my old home place or in the mountains back east.
When squirrels are mentioned, right away I think of something I saw on an Appalachian road.
I was on my way back home after work. I was on a two-lane blacktop, winding uphill.
Two vehicles were in front of me: There was a car in the lead and a pickup truck was following.
I saw a squirrel dash out in front of the car.
The car hit the squirrel. Such is life.
The critter rolled and rolled and stopped.
But then the pickup truck slowed down and stopped. The pickup truck door opened, the driver reached down, grabbed the squirrel by the tail and tossed it in the bed of his truck.
I was quite certain the driver just grabbed his dinner for that night.
I understand fried squirrel is quite tasty, especially with squirrel gravy.
Grant McGee is a long-time broadcaster and former truck driver who rides bicycles and likes to talk about his many adventures on the road of life. Contact him at his blog: