Today, january 21 is National Squirrel Appreciation Day

[Borg warner]

And in honor of National Squirrel Appreciation Day---

[Huaco Kid]

[Huaco Kid]

[geeorge]

[Borg warner]

Moose And Squirrel !!!

[DAKA]

5 hours ago, Borg warner said:

And in honor of National Squirrel Appreciation Day---

Who's the dummy, she is now raking in millions  

[Borg warner]

3 hours ago, DAKA said:

Who's the dummy, she is now raking in millions  

So is Joe Biden, and he has been for years. You don't have to be smart to make a lot of money in politics, you just have to be corrupt.

[Borg warner]

Lastly, in honor of national Squirrel day, I want to tell a story about a dog I had that loved to chase squirrels.  This dog, a Black Lab/Sheppard mix, was one of the smartest dogs that ever lived and understood many words in the English language and knew what a "the park" was, and knew what "the beach" was and knew what a squirrel was and knew what a bunny rabbit was because I always talked to my dog.

So if I said to the dog, "Do you want to go to the park? She would become very exited. And If I would say " you want to go to the beach? she would become even MORE exited. But there was one park that had a lot of squirrels and I called that park Squirrel Park and If I would say to the dog, "Do you want to go to Squirrel Park?" the dog would be come even more excited than if I had asked, "Do you want to go to the Beach?'

And of course as much as that dog loved to chase squirrels and rabbits, like most dogs, she never caught one, until one day at Squirrel Park she chased a squirrel to a really big tree but instead of going Up the tree, the stupid squirrel started running around the base of the tree at the same height as the dog and the dog went around the tree jsut once and then thought, "Hey wait a minute" and then just stepped back and waited  for the squirrel to come around the tree and grabbed it in her jaws and shook it and broke it's spine.

And normally I would have praised the dog for her success except at that same moment, there was some woman there who saw the whole thing and started freaking out and going ballistic, and started screaming, OH MY GOD! That big mean dog just killed that poor little squirrel!!! Why isn't that dog on a leash???!!!"

And I slowly backed away and  started quietly walking off in another direction and luckily the distraught lady ran off to find a safe place (or a policeman) while the dog picked up her prize and brought it to me and dropped it at my feet.

 

[Walt Longmire]

1 hour ago, Borg warner said:

Lastly, in honor of national Squirrel day, I want to tell a story about a dog I had that loved to chase squirrels.  This dog, a Black Lab/Sheppard mix, was one of the smartest dogs that ever lived and understood many words in the English language and knew what a "the park" was, and knew what "the beach" was and knew what a squirrel was and knew what a bunny rabbit was because I always talked to my dog.

So if I said to the dog, "Do you want to go to the park? She would become very exited. And If I would say " you want to go to the beach? she would become even MORE exited. But there was one park that had a lot of squirrels and I called that park Squirrel Park and If I would say to the dog, "Do you want to go to Squirrel Park?" the dog would be come even more excited than if I had asked, "Do you want to go to the Beach?'

And of course as much as that dog loved to chase squirrels and rabbits, like most dogs, she never caught one, until one day at Squirrel Park she chased a squirrel to a really big tree but instead of going Up the tree, the stupid squirrel started running around the base of the tree at the same height as the dog and the dog went around the tree jsut once and then thought, "Hey wait a minute" and then just stepped back and waited  for the squirrel to come around the tree and grabbed it in her jaws and shook it and broke it's spine.

And normally I would have praised the dog for her success except at that same moment, there was some woman there who saw the whole thing and started freaking out and going ballistic, and started screaming, OH MY GOD! That big mean dog just killed that poor little squirrel!!! Why isn't that dog on a leash???!!!"

And I slowly backed away and  started quietly walking off in another direction and luckily the distraught lady ran off to find a safe place (or a policeman) while the dog picked up her prize and brought it to me and dropped it at my feet.

 

I did similar with my dog, Dusty. Very smart. When she smelled tracks I would say 'squirrel, rabbit, moose, bear, etc' I taught her to track for me on bow killed moose. So fun to have a dog that knows so much. Had a Husky that started hanging out at our house. It would go with us on our walks. That husky taught my dof how to catch Snowshoe Hares. What a hunting team they were, but I didn't want her killing hares and bringing them to me or chasing the neighbor's domestic rabbits. Sadly I had to use a shock collar to break her of it. Thankfully it only took a couple times.

[Huaco Kid]

1 hour ago, Borg warner said:

Lastly, in honor of national Squirrel day, I want to tell a story about a dog I had that loved to chase squirrels.

Our old Fat Cat died when he was 18 or 20 (no one could agree).  He was a prolific hunter.  (Maine Coon, 20+ lbs)  He'd come home with rabbits.

He once came home with a 'possum,  which wasn't dead,  and was kinda pissed off,  but still not getting away.

A couple weeks before he died,  there was a squirrel on the doormat, with only it's face chewed off.

Kitty took it to the end.

[Huaco Kid]

When we lived in Carolina,  I had a birdfeeder.

I instantly hated the squirrels.  Took it to extremes.

Much fun.

Greased the pole.  Five funnels in a row. Electric dog-fenced it.  Cap-gun-snap-traps.

You can't win.

At the end, I got so good.

The one bugger would go into three trees away, pick the tippy-tip of the smallest, whippiest branch,  hang by one foot, and start bouncing, upsidedown.

The branch would eventually swing across the yard, way ten yards, back and forth, and he'd grab the feeder with an outstretched front paw.

I never bb gunned them.

[Huaco Kid]

I once caught one in a live-trap, spraypainted him red,  and took him to the state park, five miles away.

The next week,  there was a spraypainted squirrel in the feeder.

[ChuteTheMall]

[jmohme]

I never dreamed slowly cruising on my motorcycle through a residential
> neighborhood could be so incredibly dangerous! .Little did I suspect...
>
> I was on Brice Street - a very nice neighborhood with perfect lawns
> and slow traffic. As I passed an on coming car, a brown, furry missile shot
> out from under it and tumbled to a stop immediately in front of me.
>
> It was a squirrel, and it must have been trying to run across the
> road when it encountered the car. I really was not going very fast, but there
> was no time to brake or avoid it -- it was that close. I hate to run over
> animals, and I really hate it on a motorcycle, but a squirrel should pose no
> danger to me.
>
> I barely had time to brace for the impact. Animal lovers, never fear.
> Squirrels, I discovered, can take care of themselves.
>
> Inches before impact, the squirrel flipped to his feet. He was
> standing on his hind legs and facing my oncoming Valkyrie with steadfast resolve
> in his beady little eyes.
>
> His mouth opened, and at the last possible second, he screamed and
> leapt!
>
> I was pretty sure the scream was Squirrel for "Bonzai!" or maybe
> "Die, you gravy-sucking, heathen scum!" The leap was nothing short of
> spectacular...
>
> He shot straight up, flew over my windshield, and impacted me
> squarely in the chest. Instantly, he set upon me. If I did not know better, I
> would have sworn he brought 20 of his little buddies along for the attack.
>
> Snarling, hissing, and tearing at my clothes, he was a frenzy of
> activity. As I was dressed only in a light T-shirt, summer riding gloves, and
> jeans, this was a bit of a cause for concern. This furry little tornado was
> doing some damage!
> Picture a large man on a huge black-and-chrome cruiser, dressed in
> jeans, a T-shirt, and leather gloves, puttering at maybe 25 mph down a quiet
> residential street, and in the fight of his life with a squirrel.
>
> And losing...
> I grabbed for him with my left hand. After a few misses, I finally
> managed to snag his tail. With all my strength, I flung the evil rodent off
> to the left of the bike, almost running into the right curb as I recoiled
> from the throw. That should have done it. The matter should have ended right
> there.
>
> It really should have. The squirrel could have sailed into one of the
> pristinely kept yards and gone on about his business, and I could
> have headed home. No one would have been the wiser. But this was no
> ordinary squirrel. This was not even an ordinary angry squirrel. This was an
> EVIL MUTANT ATTACK SQUIRREL OF DEATH! Twisted Evil.
>
> Somehow he caught my gloved finger with one of his little hands and,
> with the force of my throw, swung around and with a resounding thump and
> an amazing impact, landed squarely on my BACK and resumed his rather
> antisocial and extremely distracting activities. He also managed to take my left
> glove with him! The situation was not improved, not improved at all.
>
> His attacks were continuing, and now I could not reach him. I was
> startled, to say the least. The combination of the force of the throw, only
> having one hand (the throttle hand) on the handlebars, and my jerking back
> unfortunately put a healthy twist through my right hand and into the
> throttle. A healthy twist on the throttle of a Valkyrie can have only
> one result.
>
> Torque.
>
> This is what the Valkyrie is made for, and she is very, very good at
> it. The engine roared and the front wheel left the pavement.
>
> The squirrel screamed in anger.
>
> The Valkyrie screamed in ecstasy.
>
> I screamed in ... well... I just plain screamed.
>
> Now picture a large man on a huge black-and-chrome cruiser, dressed
> in jeans, a slightly squirrel-torn T-shirt, wearing only one leather
> glove, and roaring at maybe 50 mph and rapidly accelerating down a quiet
> residential street on one wheel, with a demonic squirrel of death on his back.
>
> The man and the squirrel are both screaming bloody murder.
>
> With the sudden acceleration, I was forced to put my other hand back
> on the handlebars and try to get control of the bike.
>
> This was leaving the mutant squirrel to his own devices, but I really
> did not want to crash into somebody's tree, house, or parked car. Also, I
> had not yet figured out how to release the throttle...my brain was just
> simply overloaded. I did manage to mash the back brake, but it had little
> effect against the massive power of the big cruiser.
>
> About this time, the squirrel decided I was not paying sufficient
> attention to this very serious battle (maybe he was an evil mutant **** attack
> squirrel of death), and he came around my neck and got INSIDE my
> full-face helmet with me.
>
> As the face plate closed part way, he began hissing in my face. I am
> quite sure my screaming changed intensity. It had little effect on the
> squirrel, however. The RPMs on the Dragon maxed out (since I was not bothering
> with shifting at the moment), so her front end started to drop.
>
> Now picture a large man on a huge black-and-chrome cruiser, dressed
> in jeans, a very raggedly torn T-shirt, wearing only one leather glove,
> roaring at probably 80 mph, still on one wheel, with a large, puffy
> squirrel's tail sticking out of the mostly closed full-face helmet. By now the
> screams are probably getting a little hoarse.
>
> Finally I got the upper hand ... I managed to grab his tail again,
> pulled him out of my helmet, and slung him to the left as hard as I could.
> This time it worked ... sort of.
>
> Spectacularly sort-of, so to speak.
>
> Picture a new scene. You are a cop. You and your partner have pulled
> off on a quiet residential street and parked with your windows down to do
> some paperwork. Suddenly a large man on a huge black-and-chrome cruiser,
> dressed in jeans, a torn T-shirt flapping in the breeze, and wearing only one
> leather glove, moving at probably 80 mph on one wheel, and screaming
> bloody murder roars by, and with all his strength throws a live squirrel
> grenade into your police car.
>
> I heard screams.
> This time they weren't mine...
>
> I managed to get the big motorcycle under control and dropped the
> front wheel to the ground. I then used maximum braking and skidded to a
> stop in a cloud of tire smoke at the stop sign of a busy cross street. I would
> have returned to 'fess up (and to get my glove back). I really would have.
> Really...Except for two things.
>
> First, the cops did not seem interested or the slightest bit
> concerned about me at the moment. When I looked back, the doors on both sides of the
> patrol were flung wide open. The cop from the passenger side was on his
> back, doing a crab walk into somebody's front yard, quickly moving away from the
> car. The cop who had been in the driver's seat was standing in the street
> aiming a riot gun at his own police car.
>
> So, the cops were not interested in me. They often insist to "let the
> professionals handle it" anyway. That was one thing. The other?
> Well, I could clearly see shredded and flying pieces of foam and
> upholstery from the back seat. But I could also swear I saw the squirrel in the
> back window, shaking his little fist at me. That is one dangerous
> squirrel.
> And now he has a patrol car. A somewhat shredded patrol car...but it was
> all his.
>
> I took a deep breath, turned on my turn signal, made a gentle right
> turn off of Brice Street , and sedately left the neighborhood. I decided it was
> best to just buy myself a new pair of gloves. And a whole lot of
> Band-Aids.

 

[DAKA]

15 minutes ago, jmohme said:

I never dreamed slowly cruising on my motorcycle through a residential
> neighborhood could be so incredibly dangerous! .Little did I suspect...
>
> I was on Brice Street - a very nice neighborhood with perfect lawns
> and slow traffic. As I passed an on coming car, a brown, furry missile shot
> out from under it and tumbled to a stop immediately in front of me.
>
> It was a squirrel, and it must have been trying to run across the
> road when it encountered the car. I really was not going very fast, but there
> was no time to brake or avoid it -- it was that close. I hate to run over
> animals, and I really hate it on a motorcycle, but a squirrel should pose no
> danger to me.
>
> I barely had time to brace for the impact. Animal lovers, never fear.
> Squirrels, I discovered, can take care of themselves.
>
> Inches before impact, the squirrel flipped to his feet. He was
> standing on his hind legs and facing my oncoming Valkyrie with steadfast resolve
> in his beady little eyes.
>
> His mouth opened, and at the last possible second, he screamed and
> leapt!
>
> I was pretty sure the scream was Squirrel for "Bonzai!" or maybe
> "Die, you gravy-sucking, heathen scum!" The leap was nothing short of
> spectacular...
>
> He shot straight up, flew over my windshield, and impacted me
> squarely in the chest. Instantly, he set upon me. If I did not know better, I
> would have sworn he brought 20 of his little buddies along for the attack.
>
> Snarling, hissing, and tearing at my clothes, he was a frenzy of
> activity. As I was dressed only in a light T-shirt, summer riding gloves, and
> jeans, this was a bit of a cause for concern. This furry little tornado was
> doing some damage!
> Picture a large man on a huge black-and-chrome cruiser, dressed in
> jeans, a T-shirt, and leather gloves, puttering at maybe 25 mph down a quiet
> residential street, and in the fight of his life with a squirrel.
>
> And losing...
> I grabbed for him with my left hand. After a few misses, I finally
> managed to snag his tail. With all my strength, I flung the evil rodent off
> to the left of the bike, almost running into the right curb as I recoiled
> from the throw. That should have done it. The matter should have ended right
> there.
>
> It really should have. The squirrel could have sailed into one of the
> pristinely kept yards and gone on about his business, and I could
> have headed home. No one would have been the wiser. But this was no
> ordinary squirrel. This was not even an ordinary angry squirrel. This was an
> EVIL MUTANT ATTACK SQUIRREL OF DEATH! Twisted Evil.
>
> Somehow he caught my gloved finger with one of his little hands and,
> with the force of my throw, swung around and with a resounding thump and
> an amazing impact, landed squarely on my BACK and resumed his rather
> antisocial and extremely distracting activities. He also managed to take my left
> glove with him! The situation was not improved, not improved at all.
>
> His attacks were continuing, and now I could not reach him. I was
> startled, to say the least. The combination of the force of the throw, only
> having one hand (the throttle hand) on the handlebars, and my jerking back
> unfortunately put a healthy twist through my right hand and into the
> throttle. A healthy twist on the throttle of a Valkyrie can have only
> one result.
>
> Torque.
>
> This is what the Valkyrie is made for, and she is very, very good at
> it. The engine roared and the front wheel left the pavement.
>
> The squirrel screamed in anger.
>
> The Valkyrie screamed in ecstasy.
>
> I screamed in ... well... I just plain screamed.
>
> Now picture a large man on a huge black-and-chrome cruiser, dressed
> in jeans, a slightly squirrel-torn T-shirt, wearing only one leather
> glove, and roaring at maybe 50 mph and rapidly accelerating down a quiet
> residential street on one wheel, with a demonic squirrel of death on his back.
>
> The man and the squirrel are both screaming bloody murder.
>
> With the sudden acceleration, I was forced to put my other hand back
> on the handlebars and try to get control of the bike.
>
> This was leaving the mutant squirrel to his own devices, but I really
> did not want to crash into somebody's tree, house, or parked car. Also, I
> had not yet figured out how to release the throttle...my brain was just
> simply overloaded. I did manage to mash the back brake, but it had little
> effect against the massive power of the big cruiser.
>
> About this time, the squirrel decided I was not paying sufficient
> attention to this very serious battle (maybe he was an evil mutant **** attack
> squirrel of death), and he came around my neck and got INSIDE my
> full-face helmet with me.
>
> As the face plate closed part way, he began hissing in my face. I am
> quite sure my screaming changed intensity. It had little effect on the
> squirrel, however. The RPMs on the Dragon maxed out (since I was not bothering
> with shifting at the moment), so her front end started to drop.
>
> Now picture a large man on a huge black-and-chrome cruiser, dressed
> in jeans, a very raggedly torn T-shirt, wearing only one leather glove,
> roaring at probably 80 mph, still on one wheel, with a large, puffy
> squirrel's tail sticking out of the mostly closed full-face helmet. By now the
> screams are probably getting a little hoarse.
>
> Finally I got the upper hand ... I managed to grab his tail again,
> pulled him out of my helmet, and slung him to the left as hard as I could.
> This time it worked ... sort of.
>
> Spectacularly sort-of, so to speak.
>
> Picture a new scene. You are a cop. You and your partner have pulled
> off on a quiet residential street and parked with your windows down to do
> some paperwork. Suddenly a large man on a huge black-and-chrome cruiser,
> dressed in jeans, a torn T-shirt flapping in the breeze, and wearing only one
> leather glove, moving at probably 80 mph on one wheel, and screaming
> bloody murder roars by, and with all his strength throws a live squirrel
> grenade into your police car.
>
> I heard screams.
> This time they weren't mine...
>
> I managed to get the big motorcycle under control and dropped the
> front wheel to the ground. I then used maximum braking and skidded to a
> stop in a cloud of tire smoke at the stop sign of a busy cross street. I would
> have returned to 'fess up (and to get my glove back). I really would have.
> Really...Except for two things.
>
> First, the cops did not seem interested or the slightest bit
> concerned about me at the moment. When I looked back, the doors on both sides of the
> patrol were flung wide open. The cop from the passenger side was on his
> back, doing a crab walk into somebody's front yard, quickly moving away from the
> car. The cop who had been in the driver's seat was standing in the street
> aiming a riot gun at his own police car.
>
> So, the cops were not interested in me. They often insist to "let the
> professionals handle it" anyway. That was one thing. The other?
> Well, I could clearly see shredded and flying pieces of foam and
> upholstery from the back seat. But I could also swear I saw the squirrel in the
> back window, shaking his little fist at me. That is one dangerous
> squirrel.
> And now he has a patrol car. A somewhat shredded patrol car...but it was
> all his.
>
> I took a deep breath, turned on my turn signal, made a gentle right
> turn off of Brice Street , and sedately left the neighborhood. I decided it was
> best to just buy myself a new pair of gloves. And a whole lot of
> Band-Aids.

 

Awww   REALLY ?  Great "Story"? .....

[Huaco Kid]

My wife once came home and had a weepy sadz,  because she ran over a squirrel.

I suggested that, maybe, she only whinged him, and he was OK.

"The crows were eating his face, when I came back."

Ouch.  You'll take that to the grave.

[Walt Longmire]

My foster sister ran the family wagon off the road to miss a ******* squirrel. I might swerve for a moose, but squirrels are fair game. 

[Huaco Kid]

I know I've squished them.  That's a horrible sound.

But what is amazing,  is the ones that run RIGHT THERE! and stop!, now they're underneath, and you're waiting for the "crunch",    and you look in the mirror,  and they bolt off!

How many times each day do they do that?

[Paul53]

[Huaco Kid]

32 minutes ago, Paul53 said:

"Innocent critters squashed on the highway of life!!"

(you won't get that.  i didn't expect you to)

[Batesmotel]

5 hours ago, Huaco Kid said:

I know I've squished them.  That's a horrible sound.

Armadillos are worse. Much worse. Thud with a crunch. 

[DWARREN123]

Buzzards have to eat, too.

[Paul53]

16 hours ago, Huaco Kid said:

"Innocent critters squashed on the highway of life!!"

(you won't get that.  i didn't expect you to)

How do we know they weren't suicidal? Anybody who has driven in West Texas knows how armadillos in the road will,  just before you hit them, jump up in the air just high enough to go through your grill and radiator? Behavior has consequences and someday the smart squirrels will have evolved to making firearms?

[ChuteTheMall]

I don't swerve for squirrels, that's their responsibility.

But chipmunks are different: on a busy bike path, one made a beeline for my front tire, and I watched him get squashed.

But at least we didn't cause a mulltiple bicycle pile-up.

[Maser]