THE TALE OF THE 30-MILE SQUIRREL (A true tale for your amusement)

Well today promised to be a beautiful day, with some sun for a change.

I decided to pull the lazy-bone out of my butt and go squirrel hunting. 

Now most all of Lawrence and Washington counties are Gray squirrel habitat, and one wants to hunt them a little differently than you would Decatur county Fox squirrels. Grays tend to be more on Oak, for example, while Fox squirrels are more on Hickory. Both cut a lot of Walnut later on.

I went to a little woods not far from Medora--about a 10 mile drive for me. Arrived before daylight, and oozed about a quarter mile  to a Walnut grove and sat on a log, waiting for good daylight.

The wind was swirling--a good thing for squirrels, but not so much if a fella is after deer.

I was sitting there contemplating the sins of the world, when I heard a noise close behind me. I did not have an arrow on the string.

Like a line out of a W.C. Fields movie........."slowly I turned"

There was a yearling Deer about 5 feet away. Dumb as a post, it couldn't figure out what I was. I had zero chance of shooting it, so I said "BOO!" and off it went, flag waving like an Italian laundry.

I spied a squirrel going down a leaning tree about 75 yards away, so started my stalk. It should be noted that while I used to be able to flow through the woods like smoke, since my knee problem, it sounds more like a garbage truck backing up.

I eased up to where I saw him last......he had gone a tree further. I circled to get a quiet approach..........he had gone another tree further.  I spied him in the top of a leafless Walnut. His avenue of retreat had to be down a Huge grapevine, thence into a little arm sized Hackberry.

I eased into position and stood there thinking "invisible" thoughts for a few minutes ...........Here he comes..........My GOD! He's as big as Dennis' dog!.........The shot was perfect, and he fell stone dead............Right into the center of a grapevine cluster about 25 feet up.  Expletives were not deleted. I hate it when that happens!!

I tried shaking the vine, but it was as big around as Mike Tyson's bicep.....Not happening.

After much thought and self-discussion, I went back to the truck for a piece of rope I keep there. I cannibalized a ratchet strap for a good, heavy, hook, and ankled the quarter mile back to B'rer Squirrel. Weeds were waist high, and trying to throw the rope/hook any distance was impossible. It would go off in any odd direction when it hung on a weed. I stomped down about 1/2 acre of briers in the attempt, and managed to get the rope very well tangled in the little Hack berry........Hmmnn........if I cut the hack berry, let it lean into the vine mass, then jerk the rope......E=mc2 and presto-chango.  So back to the truck for the axe......by this time 1 3/4 hours have passed since my shot.

I cut the Hack berry and left a little for a hinge........this worked perfectly, and the squirrel was coming..........until the arrow lodged over a limb. NO WAY was my squirrel arrow gonna come out. What's a Mother to do?

I get in the truck, drive the 10 miles EACH WAY to the house, grabbed a rifle and drove back. Walked back (what is it now, about a mile?)  and shot the arrow in two. Out came the Ancient one, a full 3 hours after he was shot!

I figure he'll go 3 pounds, with golf-ball 'Nads  You probably couldn't stick a fork in the gravy.

I hope this was as amusing to you as it was to me.  You can see why I can't quit bow hunting!