The first hunting trip in my life 60 years ago was for squirrel. I had saved my money and purchased a .22 single shot rifle. Finally at the ripe age of 9, I was going hunting. Dad had listened to me beg to go along for the last two years. Two boxes of .22 shells had been used up shooting green walnuts the past few days and I was ready. Dad said a green walnut still on the tree is about the same size as a squirrel head. Nobody shots son, don’t want to ruin any of the meat.
Opening day was August 15 in Indiana and we didn’t start school in those days until after Labor Day. I didn’t sleep a wink that night and was up dressed and waiting for Dad to get up long before daylight. We both had on dark clothes, never knew what camouflage clothing was. We hiked across the back corn field to the hardwood ridge where all the hickory, walnut and oaks grew. Dad said to follow along behind him one step at a time. Don’t step on any sticks because you will scare the squirrels. Stay in the shadows and move very slowly. Don’t swat at mosquitoes or flies and give away your location. Squirrels in those days had been hunted hard and were very jumpy. The second a squirrel saw you they would slip around to the back side of the tree and hide.
Suddenly Dad froze and motioned me to him. You hear those nut shells dropping son? Slip up to that hickory tree and try to get a shot. About my third step, I broke a stick and the shells stopped coming down. I looked back at Dad and he motioned to just wait. After about 20 minutes the squirrel resumed cutting the green outer hull from the center nut. Now I was right under the tree and hulls were falling at my feet but I could not see the squirrel. Moving a little to my left, I finally saw the red tail of the fox squirrel. Well I can’t shoot the tail, now what? Finally the squirrel changed position and I could see the head and front feet holding the nut. I carefully lined up the open sights and squeezed the trigger. This was followed by a loud click. Darn, I forgot to load after Dad said I could not follow him with a loaded gun. The squirrel dropped the nut and jumped to the next tree. I hurried to load a shell and followed the squirrel through the tree tops. The bushy tail stopped and looked back to see where I was at. My quick shot missed and he went in a hollow tree. When I looked back at dad, he had a smile on his face. We continued down the ridge and soon heard more nuts dropping. Dad said let me have this one son we need some for dinner. One shot and the squirrel hit the ground. Dad said for me to go back to that den tree where you lost yours and sit down and wait.
It was 45 minutes before that little nut cracker came back out but I got him. Wow was I proud, my first trophy. Dad had shot 3 times while I had been waiting and he showed up with three more. Dad would cut a slit on the hind leg between the tendon and the bone and thread a stick to carry them with. When we got back to the house he showed me how to skin and dress squirrel and I still do it the same way today.
First he would hold the base of the tail with his left hand and the hind feet pointed away from him. With a sharp knife cut through the base of the tail but not the skin on the back. Then put your foot on base of the tail and pull up on the hind legs. Dad said this is taking his shirt off. Now you will have a pointed piece of skin on the belly left. Pull this up and the pants will come off. Then cut off the head. Now he had me hold the hind legs while he made a cut from the pelvic down through the front legs. Out came all the intestines and cut off all the feet. When we got them inside in the sink, Dad cut each squirrel into 5 pieces. He had two hind legs, two front legs and the saddle or back. He usually didn’t keep the ribs unless we were short on squirrels.
Mom washed them up and soaked them in salt water until the evening meal. If they were the young of the year and tender, Mom would pepper and roll in flour, then fry brown in oil. If they were older and tough, she did the same except pour in some water and BBQ sauce and let simmer for an hour with the lid on the skillet. She also added a few onions and peppers. We had squirrel twice a week in August, September and October and I loved it.
After a few more training trips with dad, I was hunting on my own. The limit was five squirrels per day and I was hunting far and wide finding all the best hunting locations. My skills as a hunter got better and better. By the time I was 12, five a day became easy to bag. Later on I acquired a black and white fox terrier puppy from the janitor at school. Mom and Dad were not too happy about this but let me keep it. She turned into a great squirrel dog, tracking the squirrels on the ground and barking treed. When I walked up to the tree, Speedy would go around to the other side and the squirrel would slip around to my side for a shot.
One day I was reading my Fur Fish and Game magazine and saw an ad from Mepps fishing Lure Company. They were buying squirrel tails and would pay 75 cents each. Wow, now I could pay for my .22 bullets.
Squirrels are a good way for youth to learn the basic skills of hunting. You learn how to slip quietly through the woods and stay in the shadows and remain motionless for hours waiting. All this training paid off in later years hunting turkey, deer and elk. I still hunt squirrels here in central Texas and they don’t even have a season on them in my county. I use a $400 rifle with fancy scope now instead of the little $20 single shot but the thrill and the meal is still the same as when I was 9 years old. Take a youth squirrel hunting, they will never forget it.
