But on the other hand, I had it beaten into my head in college (I’m still convinced I’m the only conservative-minded fella to graduate from the University of Minnesota with an English degree) that any good journalist—and any student of life, for that matter—should question everything.
So, I ask you again: Do squirrels poop?
There’s no question I’ve logged more hours watching squirrels while deer hunting than I have watching deer while deer hunting. And if I had to bet on it, I’d put my nickels down to assume that general statistic holds true for you, too. And as long as I’m riding the assumption train, I’m going to guess you’ve seen deer plant some fecal seeds on more than one occasion. Have you seen a squirrel exhibit similar actions?
And, of course, there’s the whole “I saw a video on YouTube of a squirrel letting it hail!” argument. Maybe. But I bet I could work with my TV producers and have a video up on YouTube in less than a week that would make you believe I can balance a VW Bug on my trigger finger.
Am I obsessed? Potentially. Mentally unstable? Without question. But I tell you this: I’ve logged hours watching squirrels in the hunting woods and haven’t seen one make a stink. Not one. Heck, I’ve logged enough hours in the woods to look you in the eye and tell you that I’ve witnessed a tree falling in the woods on it’s own accord—and it does make noise.
As a venatic addict, it’s become vital to understand everything possible about the game I pursue. If squirrels really don’t poop, what else have we been missing? Food for thought.
Keep your nose to the wind … and your eye on the squirrel.