John, I'd take you squirrel hunting any time, and I promise you we'd come back with quite a few fluffy tails. My .410 is long gone, but the 12 ga works just fine...
Karen, I'll never forget my dad poking a stick in a hole in the tree thinking it might be a squirrel bed, feeling something soft and suddenly out it came....a small possum. It jumped on dad's head, ran down his arm and out onto a branch. Dad, having climbed up a short distance to reach the hole, was now on the ground, rolling around covered with leaves and yelling for me to "get that fool thing off me." I was laughing too hard to tell him it was still 10' above him in the tree. I think that was the time I killed my aunt's cat under the tool shed, thinking it was a rabbit or woodchuck. She never did figure out what happened to her cat.....thought it must have been killed out in the road in front of their farm. Yeah Aunt Sophie, that must have been what happened.
I used to tell my girls when they were little all about my deer hunting with a bow and arrow. I'd show them a scar on my leg I got as a kid, told them I was using a powerful bow(did have a 60 lb. pull) and shot this deer at close range. When the arrow hit him it went clear through, he instantly turned 180 degrees and ran away so when it came out the other side the arrow came right back at me and hit me in the leg. They would stand there in awe, later tell all their buddies in the 'hood who then wanted to come see my scar. My wife.....she just would walk away shaking her head, telling me I'm raising damaged children.
