I must have been nine or ten years old when I received a 20-guage, single shot shotgun for my birthday. I thought I was Davy Crockett. I might have thought I was Davy Crockett, but I never gained a reputation for being what is known as “good shot.”

I know you’ve heard this, but I could have been placed inside a barn with my shotgun and after shooting a few shells might not have hit the side of the barn.

Early on some mornings, I’d go to the woods behind my Granny’s house and just sit, waiting for a squirrel to show itself.

Little did that squirrel know, it was in no danger of being killed; at least not by me and my 20-guage shotgun.

Believe it or not, there would be long stretches of time and maybe the whole morning, I would not see or hear a squirrel. That is certainly not the case at our home over on Loblolly Lane here in the city limits of Bainbridge, Georgia’s First Inland Port.

What is the saying? We’ve got more squirrels than you can shake a stick at. Just thinking about shaking a stick at all the squirrels we have makes me tired. Our late, great dog and friend, Little Bit, used to tear out of the back door determined to set those squirrels straight, but, of course, never caught one and, after a few years, came to accept them as the squatters they are.

If Donna Sue and I could simply catch a few and sell them to a carnival show, we might get rich. What I mean is that I have never seen such acrobatic varmints in my life.

We like birds (or at least Donna Sue does). She bought many bird feeders to place in strategic areas around the backyard. I’m sure many of you have done the same. We have seen many varieties of birds perch upon our (or their) feeding places.

We have cardinals, blue jays, brown thrashers, and one kind of small bird with a pretty black streak on its head.

They light for a moment, pick out a seed or two with their beaks, then fly away to a nearby bush to eat. They are very active and we enjoy watching.

But, it’s the squirrels that really put on the show. I don’t know how they shimmy up that very small metal pole, but they do. Then they hang, almost in midair, in all sorts of contortions and attack the bird feeder.

For every seed a bird eats, the squirrels must devour a thousand. The question is: Do we have bird feeders in our backyard or squirrel feeders?

I missed the mark, though, about the squirrels. I thought of that Ray Stevens song, The Mississippi Squirrel. I know Bainbridge is not Pascagoula and I’m glad, if just for the name.

With all due respect, I’m glad I don’t have to tell anyone “I’m from Pascagoula.”

Anyway, we had a revival at Sutton Chapel last week and it was good time. We had good attendance and the preacher brought really good messages.

I’m not saying, however, we would not have welcomed a Mississippi, make that a Georgia, squirrel.

I don’t know if any man had a pair Fruit of the Looms on, but I wouldn’t have minded if someone had stood up and hollered “Somethin’s got a hold on me!”

I also don’t want to imagine anyone’s garter being invaded by one of our squirrels, but a little “Lord, have mercy on me!” wouldn’t have been so bad, either.