Have ya ever seen anybody doin’ somethin’ that just might be the stupidest thang ya ever saw, and then at second glance ya realized that no, it really IS the stupidest thang ya ever saw? That’s what I thought this past weekend when I went to visit my aunt Katherine and I saw her son, my cousin, Darrell on the front porch holdin’ a fishin’ rod. Now, holdin’ a fishin’ rod on a front porch ain’t all that unusual. Ya might be admirin’ a new one ya just got down at Wally World (also known as Wal-Mart). Or ya might be fixin’ it or what not. What made it so different that day was the fact that as I walked up Darrell was staring intently out into the yard, and had the pole stuck out and a concentrated look on his face. Just between you and me, ’bout the only time Darrell concentrates at all is when he’s watchin’ a NASCAR race or tryin’ to figger out why his girlfriend doesn’t want to watch it with him. Anyways, as I got closer I noticed he had the fishin’ line goin’ across the yard and over to the bird feeder his momma keeps out there. As I walked up he shot me a glance and then went back to staring out at the feeder.
“Hey Billy Bob, whatcha up to today?”
“Not much” I replied, “Just come over to drop off Aunt Kate’s Tupperware bowl. She left it at Momma’s house after Thanksgiving dinner.”
“Well, she’s inside, so go on in.”
I probably shouldn’t have asked, but curiosity got the best of me.
“So, whatcha doin’ with that fishin’ pole?”
He looked down at the pole and then back up at me like it should have been obvious what he was doing and then said, “I’m trying to catch Gen’ral Sherman”. The look on my face must’ve indicated what I was thinkin’, ’cause he continued with “That’s what momma calls the dang squirrel that keeps gettin’ into her bird feeder and eatin’ all the seeds she puts out there.”
“Okay, but why don’t you just shoot it?” Darrell might be dumber than a box of rocks but there ain’t many ’round here who can shoot better than him. ‘Cept me of course.
“Momma’s got kinda attached to it I reckon. She just wants me to catch him and let him loose a few miles away.”
About that time I noticed a squirrel poke his head from around the poplar tree on the edge of the yard. He looked around and then took off toward the feeder and right up the pole. Darrell whipped his head around and said, “There ya go, take the bait Gen’ral”. I was wonderin’ what he was usin’ for bait and then noticed the open bag of Barbecue flavored Frito’s next to his chair. I guess he figured the seeds weren’t enough, he had to use some corn chips for bait. Maybe he thought Gen’ral Sherman was needin’ some snacks to watch the Georgia – Georgia Tech football game comin’ on later today.
Apparently the Gen’ral liked the smell of those Frito’s ’cause he went right to the chips, grabbed one and started munchin’ away. I’m sure he would’ve liked a Coca Cola to go with it but I guess Darrell didn’t think of that.
Darrell had tied a little noose at the end of the fishin’ line and when Bushy looked like he was settlin’ in for some serious eatin’, Darrell pulled the line and caught Gen’ral Sherman around the front leg. The Gen’ral almost lost his balance but then recovered. I could see him look at the line around his leg, then follow the clear plastic line shinin’ in the sun back to the pole in Darrell’s hand. Darrell started to reel the squirrel in like he was pulling a bass out of Lake Lanier. However, the moment he felt the pull, Gen’ral Sherman jumped off the feeder and started to charge the porch like he was the Angel of Death.
As he started to get closer I noticed how dang big he was and how those two front teeth looked as big and sharp as wood chisels. I looked at Darrell and saw that he wasn’t expecting this either. It was like he had caught a fish that was tryin’ to climb into the the boat to bite his arm off.
I opened the front door to the house and jumped in with Darrell so close behind me I could smell the Frito’s on his breath. We slammed the door and looked back out the window. Just then Gen’ral Sherman jumped up on the porch rail and stared in the window, looking directly at Darrell.
He noticed the fishin’ line on his leg and then bit it clean in two, never takin’ his eyes off of Darrell. To look at us you’d have thought we’d been treed by a grizzly bear, hopin’ he’d just go away and let us live. The Gen’ral just stood there on his hind legs, never makin’ a sound.
For a minute there I thought I was caught in a Stephen King book. That is if he ever wrote one that featured Tupperware, Frito’s and a big demonically possessed squirrel.
Just as I was tryin’ to remember how thick the door was and if Gen’ral Sherman could possibly get in through a window, I heard Aunt Kate come up behind us saying “What you boys got into now?”.
She looked outside and asked Darrell, “Why’s Gen’ral Sherman sittin’ on my porch? Are you hidin’ from him?”. Darrel mumbled that he’d heard somethin’ about a big outbreak of squirrel rabies in the area and he wasn’t takin’ any chances. I had to admire his quick response, ’cause I shore didn’t have any great excuses like that. I decided to ride this one out on the back of his excuse.
“Yeah, Aunt Kate, I thought I saw it foamin’ at the mouth when he got close to the house!”
She looked both of us in the eyes, while we’re both tryin’ to look as sincere as we could. No use though, she could tell when we were lyin’ ever since she’d caught us smokin’ a cigar we’d swiped out of her husband’s truck when we were about 8 years old.
“Darrell, you get out there and clean up your mess. Never mind about the Gen’ral, I’m just going to get me a hummingbird feeder. If he wants to have a drink of sugar water now and then he’s welcome to it.”
We looked back out the window and found that Gen’ral Sherman had disappeared. I laid the bowl down on the coffee table and followed Darrell out the door. We both were looking around like we expected to be ambushed. I headed over to get in my truck and go home. As I was walkin’ I looked back at Darrell on the porch gettin’ his stuff together. There behind an old tire laying in the yard I saw the Gen’ral standin’ on his hind legs and starin’ at Darrell. I started to yell at Darrell, but before I could even open my mouth the Gen’ral turned and looked at me and I could swear he put his paw over his mouth as if he was signalin’ me to silence. I just nodded back to him and climbed into my vehicle.

I learned a valuable lesson that day. Don’t go fishin’ for squirrels, but if you do, have an escape route planned out. Ya just might catch one!