There exists in virtually all ethical hunters I have been acquainted with a dichotomy in the relationship between the quarry pursued and a love for the same creature. It is no secret that the most ardent and successful conservationists of game animals are hunters.

While some of the more successful groups like Ducks Unlimited, Quail Unlimited, and Pheasants Forever are, in my opinion, top-heavy in salary of the leadership, perhaps that is just the norm with most successful fundraising organizations. The impact they have made in conservation of land, habitat, and breeding grounds, however, is undeniable.

Which brings us to the squirrel. There is no “Squirrel Unlimited,” because these critters thrive without any help from us.

So it was during one of our many neighborhood get-togethers a few years ago that the subject of the local squirrel population came up. “Man, have you ever seen so many squirrels in the neighborhood?” The general consensus was no, we had not.

Being of a somewhat analytical mind on occasion, I decided to do some Saturday research. The notion was to count not only the number of squirrels on my place but also the dispersion of gray vs. fox squirrels, as well as any other pertinent information that could be gained. The tally of the day was 28 squirrels, predominately fox squirrels, with a balance of gray and surprisingly about a half-dozen that could have been fox or gray but had pure white tails. White tails?

I’m not a genetics expert, but this development speaks to me beyond “kissing cousins.”

Clearly, as everyone else was reporting, we were overpopulated.

So we launched the plans for “Squirrel Fest.” The idea sprang from a surprising source in the neighborhood — the wife of the retired president of one of the larger insurance companies in America. She had hosted many elegant dinners for us and was a most gracious host. She confessed though that growing up on a farm, she knew her way around wild game preparation and indeed had a fabulous “Squirrel Helper” recipe.

Now, most hunters and conservationists know the story of the Kaibab deer population. It became known as what the military sometimes euphemistically calls “the wrong execution of the right idea.” In the 1920s, conservationists, in an effort to increase the deer population in the Grand Canyon National Game Preserve, engaged in aggressive predator control programs that very quickly resulted in the deer population exploding. Mission accomplished, right? No. The massive deer herd over-browsed the entire range, which eventually, and rather quickly, created ecological damage, a lack of subsistence for the herd, and soon mass starvation and a population collapse.

This errant scenario has been repeated over the years by National Park and federal land managers, though in the last few decades they have gotten a little smarter about managing predators and prey.

Anyway, we were determined not to implement the “wrong execution” with our squirrel population. As aggravating and destructive as they can be, their antics provide endless entertainment for me and the dogs. Not just hunting dogs, but it seems all dogs have a squirrel fixation.

When we began the judicious harvesting of this overpopulation, I employed my two Gordon Setters to help locate and retrieve them. With bird hunting season over but squirrel still fair game, this activity only heightened their interest in the little furry beasts. No white tail squirrels were to be found; the Eagles and other raptors working along the river had already taken them. There is that genetic selection thing again … imagine being a jungle warrior and being forced to wear a white uniform.

Ultimately, “Squirrel Fest 2015” was a tremendous success both in culinary delight as well as good company and good laughs. No, it doesn’t taste like chicken, but properly prepared as it was it can be quite tasty.

Now, anyone who has a bird feeder in their yard or outside a kitchen window knows the constant battle of keeping squirrels out of the seed. Several successful “anti-squirrel” feeders are available, and most work, but they don’t stop the squirrels from trying. As observed earlier, most dogs have a keen interest in squirrels, but hunting breeds, given a taste of the hunt, develop a hyper-interest partially due to the fact that squirrels are visibly active year-round and the game birds the dogs pursue are only available for a limited time.

I had to laugh out loud this morning when I opened social media and found a post from a fellow hunting dog enthusiast depicting a bloody forearm with the explanation that he had been sitting in his recliner enjoying the morning news and coffee with his faithful and talented hunting dog in his lap when a squirrel suddenly appeared at the bird feeder outside the window. Milliseconds later, the dog launched, digging back claws into his forearm for purchase.

I laughed out of understanding, as I bear what appear to be permanent scars on both right and left forearms from Gordon Setter “Maggie” launching herself out of my lap to foil the attempts of a squirrel at our kitchen window feeder. There is the added psychological damage of scalding hot coffee in my lap on one occasion.

Now, I’m not suggesting that these battle scars we bear are anything remotely approaching, say, Hill 142 at Belleau Wood or the battle of Saint-Mere-Eglise or any number of noteworthy and historic battles fought by our courageous military Patriots. But maybe we deserve a little something.

Maybe just a little campaign ribbon we can wear on our hunting vests to identify ourselves as combatants in the never-ending, canine-propelled squirrel vs. bird feeder wars!