Yesterday afternoon I got a text telling me to go out and look at the hawk sitting in the tree near our house. He had swooped down, caught a squirrel and flew up onto a big branch to eat. So I went out and was soon joined by a number of students and faculty who'd been passing by. We all watched that big hawk as he stood over the now dead and half eaten squirrel. As you might expect, the conversation eventually turned to who'd actually eaten squirrel and how it was cooked.
Actually, we had a member of our congregation in Venedy come by one day with baked squirrel wrapped in silver foil. I'll never forget this, piping hot squirrel on our kitchen counter. Dale, being the friendly guy he is, tried some and of course said it was a bit like chicken. I did not go near it.
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