I have been gunning for that thing. There is no two ways about it, I wanted it dead. It knew it too.
Well the dogface flushed it just now and I got a clean shot…but it wasn’t a clean kill. It is dusky and though I hit it, it struggled. It was a bit traumatizing seeing it trying to climb, but its back end would not work. A second shot brought it down, but I could not watch it thrash. I had to finish it with the butt of the rifle; crushing its neck cutting off the blood and the air. It is in my freezer now.
I initially planned to trap it. I asked a small mammals specialist that I work with. She told me to shoot it. If I trapped it and transplanted it to another patch of woods it would starve and freeze to death because they are very territorial and the locals would not let it get a foothold. So it was kill it or listen to it tear my house apart from the inside out all winter. I will bring it to work and it will get cleaned and stuffed and used for educational purposes.
The whole business makes me feel like shit. It is not easy to take a life. I apologize to every fish, every grouse, every hare, and both of the moose I have taken. I also say thank you for I have “taken” all of those lives to feed myself. I always share with friends and with family when I can. I know that is important. I return the remains to the woods or to the river. That is also important so that the animal’s spirit can return to its home and if it was treated well it may return to this world and choose to give itself again, to me, or someone like me.
I apologized to the squirrel. But there is nothing to thank it for. That was cold blooded murder…and I am likely to do it again. There are more squirrels that will try to take this one’s place. Maybe another beer will help…but probably not. Shit.