Yesterday in the barn, my nephew and I were standing there talking when all of a sudden there was a heck-of-a racket from the barn yard. We looked out and saw five squirrels acting like they were in a tag team wrestling match.
I drew my .38 special pistol and my nephew picked up the .410 shotgun. He counted one, two, three and fired. I expected the pack of squirrels to disburse, but three of them kept fighting so he fired again. The lone survivor of that second shot ran off about three feet, looked back at his dead friends and then returned and started attacking the one of the dead squirrels. I got him with the pistol.
I have never seen so many squirrel fight like that at once. Usually just two or three, and I have never seen them hang around for a second or third shot. The best part was that once we saw them, neither one of us said another word. My nephew was thinking just like I was.
Three of them went to the stew pot and the other two were given to the pigs.
Inside Every Bright Idea Is The 50% Probability Of A Disaster Waiting To Happen.