Making a Case for Squirrel Hunting

Squirrels rank low on the North American hunting hierarchy.  They don't loom in our minds as shining points in a grand wilderness the way that elk or whitetail do.  I’d hazard a guess that there are not many folks saving their pennies for a once in a lifetime squirrel hunt.  For far too many, squirrels are low hanging fruit, suitable only for children or as a way to distract oneself when another, more desirable hunt doesn't pan out.  

In some ways its easy to understand why.  Squirrels are so ubiquitous in our everyday lives that they often become perceived as vermin.  Colloquialisms like “tree rat,” reinforce the narrative that these arboreal acrobats are nothing special.  We chase them from our gardens and curse them when they dart in front of our vehicle’s path like little frenetic pinballs, playing Russian Roulette with speeding hunks of Detroit steel.

While I fully understand the frustration of hearing the squirrely rustle of dry leaves when deer hunting, I love and value these diminutive critters.  In fact I’d even go as far to say I value them above all other game that I pursue.That may seem an odd proclamation coming from a fella that is so heavily invested in duck hunting, but squirrels offer a conglomeration of value to a hunter that is hard to overstate.  Hunting squirrels is a democratizing proving ground for a hunter. Easy access and plentiful numbers mean that squirrels are a quarry that can be hunted with regularity. As with any other perishable skill, hunting is an activity that needs to be regularly participated in to prevent atrophy.  Here in Arkansas, we can chase the furred rascals from May clear through the end of February. That means that there are four seasons of opportunity for me to actively practice slipping quietly through the woods (a feat in itself). I can scout deer stands and duck holes in the off season and hone in on wild foods to forage.  I can watch the seasons undulate with their perfectly timed ebb and flow and feel like I am a part of that primordial cycle. I also go with the intention of filling my larder with tasty protein, that while certainly not a foregone conclusion, is usually attainable if I stay long enough and put in the effort.

I’ve often said that a bad day squirrel hunting is still a good day walking in the woods.  I’ve found that while a walk in the woods without purpose can be restorative, giving it a purpose or goal (like 4 quarters and a saddle for the frying pan) can make it transformative. I’m a better hunter and woodsman for my time in the squirrel woods. I’m a better cook for finding ways to prepare limb chickens that don't involve a deep fryer and white gravy.  I’m a better husband and father because when I spend time in the woods I exhale doubt and fear. I breath in self-assuredness and fill my self with the small revelations that come from repeated interactions with a constantly changing environment.  I want to do that with regularity, not just for a weekend or two in November, so I hunt squirrels. 

Squirrels are noble creatures because they exist in a sacred realm.  Look at a squirrel at sunrise, backlit by a fiery sun as its silhouette is highlighted at the top of a leafless tree this fall.  You will see a being that lives its life where the earth meets the sky. There is majesty in the realization. These are not vermin to be despised or simply the pursuit of the untrained or uninitiated.  If squirrels are noble creatures then their pursuit sheds rays of nobility on us as well, as much for the intangible glimmerings of self realization as anything else. So go out into the woods this year and be noble.  Hunt squirrels.