Hey, you gonna eat the rest of that?

Again, I was very very busy today at the company. During my coffee break, I found a newspaper in the breakroom and started reading. I didn’t expect to find anything of interest, but I was bored. Imagine my surprise when I read that Squirrel season starts in Nebraska this Saturday! You need a license, though. You can’t just go around killing squirrels without a license. What if everyone just went around killing squirrels? I know, right? Well to make sure that doesn’t happen, there’s a hefty 14 dollar price tag on the license. What I thought was interesting is that you are allowed to “bag” up to 7 a day, but may not have more than 28 on you. Interesting, because to exceed the legal number of dead squirrels in your pocket, you’ve got to have some squirrels you (or someone you know) killed at least 4 days ago. Mmmm. I suppose that number (28) includes all the squirrels in your freezer. Next to the Ben and Jerry’s. And again, I say, mmm.

Ok, so I don’t hunt. Mostly because it doesn’t seem like any fun to me. That and they don’t generally let you hunt the stuff that tastes good. I know, I know, venison is so delicious when prepared just right… spare me. Please. Deer meat is nowhere near as good as just about any part of a cow. I love beef in its many tasty forms. Deer meat? Not so much. Chicken? Extremely versatile and yummy. But when does chicken or cow season open up in Nebraska?

Pork. Perhaps the best meat on the planet. Pig season, anyone? Nope. Not gonna happen.

Even if you could just drive out to some farm somewhere and start plugging away at cattle, it would still be simpler and probably cheaper to just go to the Bag-N-Save and grab you some steaks.

But Fred, deer jerky is awesome! No it’s not. It’s just tastier than straight deer meat because it’s got so much salt in it that some of the rancid deer flavor gets masked. By the way, beef Jerky sucks too. We have freezers now. There’s no need for “Jerky”.

To learn more about this wondrous hunting season stuff, I visited the Nebraska Game and Parks Commission website to see what other things I might be able to hunt. I mean, if they have a squirrel season, who knows. Maybe they have a Red-Breasted Robin season, too.

Sadly, no. However, I did see something that I found even more amazing than the fact that people pay 14 dollars to hunt squirrels.

They have this thing called "Fur bearer Running Season". It's for foxes, raccoons, etc. But you don't kill them. You just chase them. From the site:

During the running season, bobcat, raccoon, red fox and Virginia opossum may be pursued or chased with hounds, but not killed.

I've heard in the past that hunting seasons are structured to help wildlife as much as possible. Thin the herd to prevent disease and starvation and things. I'm guessing the idea behind running season is to help the foxes and Virginia opossums stay in good shape. Otherwise, they'd probably just lay around all day getting fat and lazy, taking insulin shots, blaming their metabolism or glands, etc.

But anyway, back to squirrels ...

So ok, let’s say I get squirrel terminator license. Hey listen, it’s better to have one and not need it than need one and not have it. I suppose if I find myself in a situation where I have to kill a squirrel (or 7), I could always claim self-defense. But it would just be easier to fork over the 14 bucks and be good for the season.

I think it might be fun to kill a squirrel just for the immediate and drastic emotional charge it would surely evoke. I don’t love or hate squirrels, but I do think they’re kind of cute (mostly because one has never gotten into my house, ruining all the furniture). I can imagine walking along with Mr. Bluebird on my shoulder, when I spot it. The enemy. The brown furry little guy, up in the tree, hunched over furiously chewing away at whatever, turning it over in it’s cute little enemy paws. Mr. Bluebird instinctively slows his chirping. I edge within range, slowly bringing my trusty .22 long rifle up to my shoulder while Mr Bluebird cautiously flies over to the other side. As I deftly take the instrument off “safe”, the squirrel suddenly stops chewing. Suspicious but frozen. It is too late for you my friend. Pop. Yes! Right though the heart! Woohoo! As I watch the critter fall lifeless to the ground in a series of impossible contortions, I think “what the hell?” I just killed this creature. I don’t want to eat any squirrel. Guilt briefly threatens to sour my day until I remember my sidearm. My 1911 .45 ACP. I’ve always wondered what it would do to a small furry cute little animal. I grab the handgun and approach my fallen foe. I see it still twitching a little and actually not completely dead, yet. With the blast of the .45 at roughly point blank range, no more sign of any squirrel. 1 down, 6 to go. Zippity do dah …