The dead squirrel on Newbirdge Hill was gone this morning. I can only assume it was taken by a chef, probably Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall, to cook a divine feast of sautéed squirrel, chanterelle mushrooms and autumn vegetables.
The cheap bastard. At least buy your meat from a reputable butcher. He didn’t even leave flowers on the roadside for the poor departed creature.
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