This isn’t a food related thing. Well, it is if you’re Jed Clampett. Or his nephew, Jethro. And this is true. Really.

Karen and I were walking the dogs the other day. We were walking up the street when we heard this very loud, “CRACK!!!” It was one of those tree branch cracks, the kind that let you know something big and heavy is about to fall somewhere on or around your head. Before we or the dogs could react, we saw this squirrel fall from the trees, right in front of our eyes, and land with a loud, “SPLAT!!” This fat squirrel landed, round-stomach down, maybe five feet in front of us. Even the dogs were stunned.

And before the dogs (being the hunters-from-antiquity that they are) could react, the squirrel, who I was sure was quite deceased, looked at us and ran at record speed through the trees and into the woods. The dogs looked longingly at the one that got away.

So yes, it really happened. A squirrel with bad balance. And a culinary delight for Jed or Jethro. But not me.