Back in my young days of the early 1950's when Mama cooked squirrel we used a wood burning cook stove. Humpy loved squirrel, fried, in dimplings or smothered in gravy. He killed 'em, Mama cooked 'em, we all ate 'em.
To set this story, our family shared a distant relative with the community far and near that would circulate among her relatives or claimed kin for visits and to get news, give news and opinions. Especially opinions. We called her Aunt Dell. Most old ladies back then were called "Aunt".
Aunt Dell was spending a few days at our house with her ever present walking stick. The walking stick wasn't really used to aid in her walking, but to hook a young'in to get their attention. Our house being filled with young'ins all running in different directions and making lots of noise, Aunt Dell kept that stick busy hooking.
Her favorite child at our house was Humpy. His birth certificate listed his name as Jarvis. He became known as Humpy after a tumble from the wagon before the age of one year. The Great Fall earned the moniker, "Humpy". He wore it like a badge of honor until his death at age 49. Not many ever knew the name Jarvis. Aunt Dell had a hearing problem which allowed her to hear his name pronounced, " Buncie".
Humpy would streak by Aunt Dell and just at the edge of her personal space, he took a flying leap to try and avoid the hook. She got it figured out eventually as she was as sly as he. He lept, she adjusted her walking stick and hooked him around his skinny leg and dragged him to her feet where she lectured him on running in the house and then gave him instructions to do some chore for her. "Buncie" became Aunt Dell's favorite personal assistant.
One cold winter morning Aunt Dell told Humpy to go kill her some squirrels.
She had unknowingly hit his sweet spot. Humpy loved hunting, especially squirrels. She said, "Buncie, I want some squirrel for supper, go get me several". Humpy/Buncie grabbed his 22 and headed out to the Long Pond to shoot several squirrels from way up there in their nest at the tops of those cypress trees. In a short time he was back with several held by their tails and the skinning commenced.
Here is where this story gets good. Mama had to cook those critters while Aunt Dell instructed. Mama fumed at being told how to run her kitchen, Aunt Dell paid no attention to fumeing. The squirrels were set to boil in a big old iron pot on that wood burning cook stove. Mama planned to make dumplings with some and smother some in gravy. Supper was gonna be good this night.
BUT,
Mama had gone to the barn to do the milking early this evening so as to have the time necessary to roll dumplngs and finish off a big feast for our family. Aunt Dell, always doing busy work, decided to boil the dish rags to bring them up to standard. She took off the lid from the squirrel filled pot, looked closely through her high index lenses and dropped in the dish rags.......................
Mama came in from milking, got it strained and set in the Kelvinator for cooling and cream rising. Then she started rolling out the dumplings. As she lifted the lid off the pot to take out the squirrels for smothering in gravy, she dipped up some gray colored rags and a skinny squirrel. A split second passed before things clicked. Mama turned fire engine red. Aunt Dell came limping in to say she thought she would boil and bleach a few more dish rags since the ones Mama was already boiling had enough room and the water looked pretty gray anyhow.
We ate biscuits and syrup with homemade butter for supper that night. It was a quiet supper. Daddy looked from Mama to Aunt Dell before he announced,
" Dell, if you are about ready to go on home, I'll drive you up first thing in the morning".
There was a moment next morning when we witnessed two women stand looking at each other and could not think of a civil thing to say to each other.
As Daddy and Aunt Dell rolled out of the lane Mama muttered,
"Goodby and good riddance".
Daddy's advice,
" Never boil the dish rags with a squirrel, the friction will cause sparks".
