Last Update: 12/03/2010
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Original Post
06/18/10
Squirrelcide With Malice Aforethought
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My lovely wife's many talents include a magical "green thumb" and the creative vision to have turned our standard suburban back yard into a beautifully landscaped, lush garden of vines, trees, flowers, ornamental grasses, water features and singing birds. She even received a plaque from some organization for creating such a perfect natural habitat.
The water and bird seed and edible greenery in this habitat provides a visiting place or a home for many different creatures. We have seen many generations of rabbits born and raised in our garden, nourished on some of my wife's prize plants. We have bird seed scavenging rodents scurrying through the ornamental grass clumps. We like to pretend that they are "happy little field mice, going about their cheerful little lives." Then there are the F***ing squirrels.
We don't feed our birds with Walmart bird seed. That mixture contains inferior seed types that attracts inferior types of birds that don't sing, don't look pretty and just crap all over the place. (That sounds racist or something but it's actually true.) If you want the "desirable" birds to come around, you have to buy things like safflower seed, shelled and unshelled peanuts, and other expensive seeds sold by boutique seederies on the internet, known only to women with a green thumb and a high limit credit card. The safflower seed is delivered by UPS or FEDEX (I think) I always hear a whoomp on my front porch and when I look out there's a large battered box containing a 50 pound sack of seed. The strong young driver and his truck have immediately vanished, leaving an old disabled fart (me) to drag the seed to the garage. The peanuts come in lighter containers, but I think the price is the same. Back to the F***ing squirrels. We refill the bird feeders every morning around 07:00. That's when the F***ing squirrels show up at the feeder tray on the patio table to chase away the song birds and gorge on the peanuts. Sometimes the F***ing squirrels will show up a few minutes early and sit on top of the fence looking in the window at the breakfast table gesturing for me to hurry up with the peanuts. (That's called chutzpah.) The F***ing squirrels weren't just stealing expensive peanuts and scaring away the song birds, they were also digging up and eating plant bulbs, gnawing into the attic, and damaging our house. Well, my first bachelor's degree was in Philosophy, and I forget the name of the great philosopher (probably German) who said it, but "Sometimes Violence Is The Only Answer." I had an old Daisy Red Ryder BB gun. A pedestrian door from the garage opens to the patio. The sound of the gun probably startled a few squirrels, 1 out of 5 BBs may have flown straight enough to bounce off the squirrel.
When that didn't work out, I escalated to a Crosman pump-up BB gun. The 10 pumps were difficult with my bum arm, but now I had some power behind the BB. With iron sights I was hitting about 3 of 4 shots and probably leaving a welt on the squirrel because he didn't come back again that day.
Later, I put a scope on the Crosman, and zeroed it in. Now I could pick the part of the squirrel I wanted to hit. I usually aimed for his fat butt just to sting him and give him some negative reinforcement about hanging around our house. I found that if I bounced one off his head, he would fall off the table, act dazed for a few minutes and then leave. (TBI, concussion, PTSD? Been there, done that.) The F***ing squirrels were not retaining their negative reinforcement training, so further escalation was required. My academic education was in Philosophy and in Business. I figured a philosophical seminar on "the ethics of stealing peanuts" would not be well received. I would need a lot of business lawyers to help arrange a leveraged buy-out of this tribe of squirrels. Fortunately, my education was not limited to academic subjects. As a retired Master Intelligence Officer in The U.S.Air Force, I had been intimately familiar with the JCS Joint Munitions Effectiveness Manuals. I had spent many hours with those books, helping aircrews to select the exact weapons and settings to produce the desired results on their target. So I spent some time looking up the ballistic statistics and coefficients. My Crosman pump-up BB gun launched BBs at 750 feet per second (fps). The standard Mark1, Mod1 F***ing squirrel hide could withstand an object travelling at 900 fps. Solution: order a Crosman "break-barrel" air rifle which pumps with one stroke, fires a pellet at 1,000 fps and comes with a scope.
Disclaimer: This is beginning to sound violent and bloodthirsty. Although I enjoy precision target shooting, I have never been a hunter. Every round I have ever fired has punched a hole in paper, (except at Lai Khe in Spring of 1970, and those two dudes pissed me off by firing at me first.) The Crosman air rifle - it arrived in due course, by FedEx I think. Adult signature required. The wise-ass young driver looked at me when I answered the door (I look a little like Gabby Hayes when I can distract my wife from making me shave every day) and asked was I over 21? "Yer durn tootin'," I replied, "Hope ta spit in ya mess kit!" He took that as affirmative, let me sign, and I had my air rifle.
I set up a target/backstop consisting of a cardboard box full of flattened cardboard and a wooden board. Figured the board would stop the pellet and all the cardboard would keep ricochets from coming back at me. Drew some small circles on the front of the target and quickly zeroed-in the scope. Then I set the rifle aside for a couple of weeks. I still wasn't convinced that stealing peanuts and gnawing on the eaves was a capitol offense. Then I read about a couple of families who lost their homes when squirrels in the attic gnawed electric wires and started fires. This morning - one shot, one kill. Blew him clean off the table. Funeral will be Tuesday.
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Remember...

CAN PREVENT
F***ING SQUIRRELS
FROM BURNING YOUR
HOUSE DOWN.
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| 06/27/10 #2 I wasn't planning on ever following up on the Squirrelcide article. It was a little bit funny in a grim way. I have a difficult time being really amused by death, even when it involves a destructive rodent. Today's target got it solely because of his attitude. I was in the kitchen and saw him in the birdseed tray gobbling seed. I snapped the window lock off and back on, the sound usually scares squirrels away. Nope. I knocked on the window. He made a face at me and continued with his feast. I said "okay" and went out through the garage to pick up and load the Crosman and poke it out the door. I was planning on a classic headshot with "pink mist" but he jerked and I hit him in the neck. He did a little dance and fell into the rose hedges. I went out with a bucket and scoop to clean up but couldn't find him. Well, it's going to be a hot day. MISREP * * * * * * 06/28/10 #3 I never would have made it as a "cold-blooded" assassin, I try to warn off my victims. Went through the lock snapping and window knocking routine again today. The little SOB looked at me like I was disturbing his meal. Fortunately, when my Scottish-Irish blood gets hot, there's no problem making the world safe for songbirds. MISREP
* * * * * * 07/02/10 #4, #5 Two more persistent buggers in separate incidents. Apparently the word is not getting around about what happens to squirrels who don't respond to the snapping locks or knocking on windows warnings. One departed mortally wounded, which saved me the trouble of cleaning up the corpse, but made me feel bad that he might have had some pain. Hard to get a quick 2 nd shot with a pellet gun. MISREP 01 MISREP 02
I thought I was doing pretty good against the tree rats in my back yard from 20 - 40 feet with my pellet rifle. These two guys from West Texas took down this good-sized Texas squirrel at 500 yards with a Barrett rifle. One of the largest squirrels shot there in several years.
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From AHN
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