Posted on 03/11/2004 7:27:35 PM PST by BluegrassScholar
Last week I awoke just past noon (having slept the sleep of the suddenly redundant) and stumbled into my yard to retrieve the morning paper. I realize I should probably cancel my subscription to economize, but I continue to subscribe if for no other reason than to get my weekly fix of Ann Coulter. Anyway, as I'm retrieving the paper, I noticed a dead squirrel near my aspidistra (and, no, that's not a dirty word). Being a native Mississippian, I am, of course, immediately intrigued by anything having to do with a dead animal, whether I killed it or not. After closer inspection and repeatedly poking the late squirrel with a stick, I could discern no evidence of blunt trauma nor wounds that would point to a attack from the neighborhood ninja kitties. It appeared the squirrel had simply ignored the pleadings of Dylan Thomas and chosen instead to go gently into that good night.
I was faced with two choices - dispose of the squirrel properly (although I'm not sure what that entails) or sling it over my fence into the neighbor's yard. I opted for the latter and with Einstein-like prowess, mentally computed in mere moments the calculus and algorithms necessary for the proper velocity, trajectory and flight path to carry the squirrel from my yard approximately 40 feet into my neighbor's yard. I suppose I could have simply picked up the squirrel, walked over to the fence and dropped it on the other side, but how often does one have the opportunity to fling a dead squirrel? Sometimes you just gotta carpe diem. I should interject at this stage of the story that the neighboring house is on the market and otherwise unoccupied. I mean, I still would have chunked the squirrel over the fence even if someone was living there, but perhaps more surreptitiously.
Grabbing the squirrel by the tail, I began spinning it over my head to work up the required centrifugal forces necessary to cover the 40 feet. However, too late I discovered that my calculations failed to account for the rate of biological decomposition as the body of the squirrel separated prematurely from the tail and deviated from the planned flight path. In fact, the squirrel deviated right into the street just as a perky realtor drove up with a young couple looking for that perfect starter home, and thudded soundly on the hood of her Pacific green Volvo and slid to a stop spread-eagled against her windshield. I'm not sure the English language has a vocabulary extensive enough to convey the sense of shock on the faces of the realtor and prospective buyers as they gazed first at the squirrel with no tail and then at me, standing there shirtless, wearing World Wrestling Federation pajama bottoms and a pair of white shrimping boots (also known as "Bayou Reeboks"). I think you can guess the house didn't sell that day. I'm surmising the young couple did not want to live next to a half-naked man that throws dead animals at passing cars. At least I don't have to worry about new neighbors.
,,, I didn't know you could eat squirrels - what do they taste like? Don't say chicken, I genuinely don't know.
LOL!!!
Yeah I was gonna comment that it had nothign to do with decomposition. Doing that with a fresh squirrel would have likely had the same effects (trust me, done it before... even on something light as a chipmunk the tail will strip like a wire.).
I've seen lots of furry tailed rodents running around with parts of their tails missing likely from close run-ins with cats or dogs or cars or other hazards. Eventually the exposed bone falls off and they have a stubby brush the rest of their little lives.
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