Hunting Squirrels Club

As we were leaving Prairie Creek Campground, a guy stopped to chat with Mom. He told her about a Squirrel Club he belongs to & that the following day four of our neighboring campsites would be filled with 60 hunting dogs!

Mom almost fell to her knees in gratitude that we were leaving before that nightmare arrived. My Mama couldn’t begin to wrap her head around how I would handle 60 excited dogs -camped next to me- that I couldn’t play or hunt with.

Mom knew that I’d be inconsolable when I found out those dogs were there to tree squirrels.

I followed Mom’s & Mr. Squirrel’s guys’ conversations with rapt attention. It sounds like this robust man was part of a Squirrel doggin’ club.

The point is for the dogs to tree the rat-like scampers. The two-legged do not shoot the squirrels; instead, they get points for their dog being the 1st one to tree the chattering, fluffy-tailed teases.

Trophies are awarded at the end of the manly beer-fueled, marshmallow roasting, hound howling weekend. My poor Mama was gonna need a case of Port & many tranquilizers to survive that chaos and keep me roped in.

After the Squirrel guy bid Mom “Adios,” I did some quick calculations & started to hop around like a Mexican jumping bean.

I said, “Mom, I wanna join a club like that.”

Mom’s reply, “No.”

“But Mom, think of all the exercise I’d get, plus I’m perfect for the club. I have big strong hind legs, and I love to jump. I hate that prissy wag of their tails in my face just outa my reach, bouncy critters. It will be good for my soul to hunt, chase’ em up a tree, and then bark my head off. Mom, think of all the clean air exercise I’ll get and give all my awards to you. Plus, nothing is getting killed; no blood, guts, or anything nasty.”

Mom’s reply, “NO.”

“Mom, think of it as a way to enhance your social life. You like men, beer & marshmallows, right?”

I tried to explain to Moms that her weekends would be planned; no more pouring over maps wondering & wandering willy-nilly over the countryside. Her life would have focus and purpose.

My Mama’s vocals were stuck on “NO.”

At that point, I shed a tear as I laid down to pout while Mom finished packing up camp.

That night I dreamed I was the top dog in the Squirrel Club. I ran the fastest, treed the quickest & my squirrels stayed put instead of branch hopping from tree to tree.

Mom can ruin my life, but she can’t take my dreams.


2 thoughts on “Hunting Squirrels Club

  1. Poring over maps, not “pouring.” Editor in me compels pointing it out. Anyway, it’s a lesson that will stick with you. I got an A minus rather than an A on a college freshman English class once because I spelled judgment with an e — judgement. Never misspelled it again. 


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