Today I killed two baby squirrels.

My brother-in-law and I were doing yard work up at the church and I was mowing the front yard. I pushed the mower up to a flowerbed and pulled it back. When I pulled the mower back, I saw two grayish/pinkish little things. One was not moving and the other was thrashing about yelping at the top of its lungs.

My guess is the two baby squirrels fell out of their nest in a tree located in the flowerbed. I called Jon over and we took a look.

The one that was not moving was gasping for breath and had a traumatic wound to its left side, the mower blade obviously nicked him. He died a short time later.

The other one did not appear to have any real injuries apart from a very small cut.

Jon and his wife took the squirrel home and showed it to their neighbor, a retired vet. He told them what they needed to do, but he also told them that there was very little hope.

We stopped by this evening to show the kids the squirrel. We warned them that he might not live because he was very sick.

Oh yeah, I didn’t tell them that Daddy tried to grind him and his brother up with the lawn mower. Some things are just better left unsaid.

Jon called about 30 minutes ago to say that ol’ Hank the Squirrel passed away. They buried him in the back yard.

Great.

Killing two baby squirrels in one day really hurts my lifetime average…although, nothing can ever make up for my first deer. You know, the one I had to shoot three times and ultimately, one of my fellow hunters had to stand on her neck until she finally stopped breathing?…Yeah, that one…so I guess its not that big of a deal.

Hi Guilt, my name is WunderKraut…