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When good pets go bad: the sad saga of Mr. Lowe's squirrel

Most of today's citizenry have become complacent about squirrel attacks. but in the early days of the municipality they were happening with alarming frequency, as often as every 5,288 days or so, behooving today's citizenry to keep a wary eye out for the delicious, furry little critters. Yet, JIM is not posting this to alarm folks. Rather, as a comfort for neurotics everywhere, worried about everything, including running out of fresh phobias.
Click on headline for complete documentation of backyard terrorists of yore

By JIM

The quietude of everyday life enjoyed by the residents of Burkesville Street got blown all to flinders one drowsy morning in early September, 1915. On that less than auspicious occasion, a pet squirrel belonging to Mr. George Lowe, a resident of the aforementioned avenue, somehow took leg bail from its cage, and, in a word (or two), went berserk.


Said the News of the escapee, "It sprang on a lady who was nearing the house and bit her through the arm and shoulder and tore her clothes in several places. It then attacked a boy passing by and bit him two or three times."

A witness to the brawl had the presence of mind to call Mr. Lowe, who no doubt was in the midst of practicing his tonsorial art on the Square, and excitedly urge him to "to come home quick and kill it." However, as Mr. Lowe approached his domicile, "he met two or three little boys coming at full speed and the squirrel right on their heels."

The boys escaped, the squirrel went up a tree, and Mr. Lowe, feeling victory was at hand, called a dog to the scene to dispatch the miscreant. The squirrel, however, put the quietus on that notion. Reported the News, "The squirrel came down, gave the dog a rough fight and then escaped to the tree again."

Finally, Mr. Allen Eubank happened along and by means unknown, sent the wee rampager to the land of endless walnuts.

Oddly, this wasn't the first time in Columbia's storied history that a member of clan sciuridae became violently dethroned of reason. Almost fifteen years earlier, on the morning of Saturday, March 9th, 1901, Dr. C.M. Russell's grey squirrel pulled a Houdini and set forth a-journey in a grove belonging to Mr. Sid Barbee. Mr. H. Clay Wolford, youngest scion of the late Col. Frank Lane Wolford, while passing through the self-same grove, encountered the rambunctious runaway and fell victim to a blitz attack.

According to the News, an epic altercation ensued: "The little grey attempted to climb the above mentioned gentleman when he knocked it off, but it sprang again and succeeded in reaching his shoulder, and in the fist and biting game, Clay was severely bitten."

When the dust settled, Mr. Wolford had a number of fingers swathed in bandages from the bites, and the perpetrator thereof had been given passage to eternity by means of a well placed shotgun blast fired by an unnamed party.



This story was posted on 2014-06-22 11:08:52
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