So, we must have walked for at least 20 minutes with no sign of Mr. Squirrel. But on our way back...it happened. Far off in the thick, there was movement. So I snuck off. I saw the squirrel in a far off tree...it was haulin ass. And then...I shot.
Someone should have told me a shotgun kicks back into your shoulder! OUCH
And then Mr. Squirrel fell from the tree. I started yelling. I almost started crying. So Henry goes in looking for it and retrieves it.
And it was official. I was a killer.
I refused to look at it. All the way back I didnt even peep at it. I will have to tell you though. I wanted to shoot something else! (even though I felt a little bad...I kept telling myself that Mr. Squirrel was really a squirrel bully and I did the squirrel kingdom a favor).
Poor little guy. But Henry prepped it for eating. I would have tried it, but they werent cooking it until this week. Apparently squirrel is some good eating.
Now that I got that off my chest...
I also tried oysters for the first time. I don't eat seafood, and never really thought I could even swallow an oyster. But they found me a tiny one, plopped it on a cracker, and in my mouth it went.
Looks like me tequila face huh? Well. It went down. And honestly, the taste was not bad. It wasn't that fishy. It's just the texture that will get you!
Here is a picture of Clint and I (Heather's cousin, flight attendant, and Henry's older brother).