Flash Fried Squirrel For Brunch
They must have done a prescribed burn not too long ago on the Gopher Tortoise Nature Trail in Seminole State Park in Georgia. You can tell by the proliferation on nothing but bright green ferns with not much else for underbrush. Plus the blackened lower bark on the pine trees pretty much gives it away.
This past Sunday we got up and did the pay the bills by bicycle thing and stopped at Atlanta Bread Company for breakfast and a paper at an outside table. When we got home and typed in the code on the garage keypad, nothing happened. At first I thought that Donna had punched in the code wrong, but on further review it looked like the keyboard was dark, maybe indicating the batteries were dead. We don’t carry a key because this entry method has never let us down in the decade or so we have had this option of getting in the house.
Another look at the keypad and the lights were on, but the remote still wouldn’t open the door. It was then that we noticed the light at the end of the driveway that we always leave burning (so we know which house is ours) was not lit. That meant the power to the house was out. The neighbors kitty-corner across the street were out on their porch, so Donna went over to ask what happened. The neighbor said that she heard the transformer pop, so she walked outside and was just in time to see a smoking squirrel fall to the street. Poor thing must have stepped in the wrong spot and completed a circuit.
Not longer than 15 seconds after our cooked critter hit the ground, a neighborhood cat darted from under an azalea bush, picked up the fried squirrel and carted it off.
