17 HMR Vs. 5.4 Liter V8

OK, everyone can assume that the .17 hmr is going to be a way better weapon at killing squirrels than the 5.4 liter V8 in my old Ford Expedition, and they’d be right. But, there are times when you just can’t beat the crushing force of 5400 lbs of Detroit steel for whacking squirrels. Especially when hunting squirrels in town. (The local police force tends to frown on the use of firearms inside the city limits for some reason.)

I was headed over to my son’s school to pick him up on the last day before Christmas break, and low and behold there was this squirrel running down the middle of the road about a block away. Of course I’m thinking that it would be cool to get him with my truck, but he’s a whole block ahead, and even a stupid squirrel isn’t block headed enough to stay in the middle of the road waiting for me to get there.


This squirrel was so dumb, that he just kept running down the middle of the road. The closer I got, the faster he ran, but he didn’t head into the trees to the left or right; don’t ask my why, but he didn’t. As I got closer I starting to get a little weak. I’m thinking that “hey, it’s almost Christmas, this squirrel didn’t do anything to me, maybe he has kids in school too, or a poor sick mother to take care of”. Pretty pathetic huh, me getting all soft and squishy on the inside just cause it’s Christmas.

So I decide that I’m not going to do my usual swerve and crunch, and I’ll just “Pass Over”* the squirrel this one time and maybe get a point for not making him soft and squishy on the inside too. I mean hey, I’m pretty sure that I got a black mark for the “God Hates Squirrels” post I did a couple of days ago. (At least I did according to certain religious factions in my family, who think you can’t say anything humorous in the same paragraph with the word God. I think that’s weird, because God has to have a sense of humor, he made them. LOL)

The squirrel running down the middle of the road is now going full out, and not even doing the “Oh Crap Dance” they usually do when they can’t make up their minds whether to go left or right. Since he’s still doing the straight line, and I’ve now made up my mind to let him go, I just punch it and pass right over the top of him.


You’ve got to be kidding me. After all this time, and with me deciding not to do the swerve and crunch, he does it for me. You know what, I actually felt bad for a second there. I’m like, “NOOOOOOO!“, for a fraction of a second, then I’m like, “whatever”, and look in my rear view mirror. As I look back, I can see a fresh squirrel pancake decorating the road where my right back tire used to be.

Of course, being the guy that I am, I turned around to see if I could offer any assistance. You know, like first aid, or CPR, or something. But, since I’m not a skull and bone, dust fragment, surgeon, I figured there wasn’t anything I could do except take a quick picture for posterity. (One of the mothers that was strolling along the sidewalk with her children gave me a dirty look when her kids started crying about the dead squirrel. Like it’s my fault or something… wait, it was wasn’t it. LOL)

She actually flipped me off when I rolled down my window and started singing “Squirrelma Got Run Over By A Reindeer” as I drove away. Some people just don’t like Christmas music I guess.

City squirrel taken out by my Ford Expedition.

SquirrelSniper AKA: SquirrelSquisher

*Passover, Get it?

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