I Remember When . . . .
Great Stories about growing up in the Horntown, Oklahoma area!

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Squirrel Huntin' & A Two Toed Chicken

     Down along the slow running branch, were mulberry trees, which squirrels loved. After a rain Dad would grab the twenty-two rifle and call the dogs, and we would go squirrel hunting. One dog was really good at finding them.  He would just smell the air and run to a tree.  When we would catch up with him, there would be a squirrel there. It is not easy to get a squirrel to stick his head out so you can see him.  Dad would hide behind a tree, call the dogs to him, and make squirrel sounds, till curiosity got the best of the squirrel, and he poked his head around the truck or limb of the tree. Most of the time he would get 2 to 3 squirrels. Shells cost money, so only one shot, and that had to be right in the eye, so not to ruin the meat.  Cleaning them, we would see chiggers so thick they looked like orange spots on their legs. Evidently they did not hurt the squirrels as bad as they did us.
     He taught me to clean them and beware of the scent gland that would ruin the meat if you cut into it. Cleaned, soaked in salt water, then dipped in flour and fried in bacon drippings, with gravy made in the skillet, biscuits, green onions and tomatoes from the garden, a large glass of sweet tea, (no ice) good supper.
     We swung a hammock between two oak trees in the front yard. When you got in the thing, it would fold around you like a cocoon.  Many evenings I would lie there and call quail.  They would come and land on the fence posts.  They would come morning and evening to eat with the chickens.
     We tried to get the chickens to go into the chicken house every night.  One or two old hens would decide to roost in the trees.  The owls would land near the chicken, on a limb, slowly inch her toward the end of the limb.  When she finally fell off, the owl would catch her in mid air, and off into the woods he would go, for a chicken dinner.
     Many a morning I have waited, impatiently, for the cackle of a hen in the hen house, then go get the egg for breakfast. Now that's fresh!  One chicken became my pet.  He had stepped in the burning brush pile, lost one of his toes.  I named him 2 toes.  It was my job to keep fresh water out for the poultry.  Dad would cut an old tire in half, lay both halves out in the yard.  I would carry water from the creek in pails and fill them.
Lou Anne Allen, Attended Moss Schools from the 3rd. - 6th. Grades.

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