In reference to squirrels.
I’m not much of a cook and I try to avoid hassling Mrs. Curmudgeon with dead fauna I’ve brought home. I generally avoid bringing home anything that’s not big game or filleted fish. The squirrel thing was an outlier and an excuse to exercise Grandpa’s gun. (I suppose it’s mine now but it’ll always be Grandpa’s Gun to me.)
Lucky for me Mrs. Curmudgeon stepped up to the plate, marinated the living shit outta’ the mess I’d made, and cooked them up beautifully. I hadn’t been serious about the whole “dinner” part of the affair and only bagged two. It was so good I wished I’d paid attention and gathered half a dozen or so. Live and learn.