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The Mysterious Case of the Dying Squirrel

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It was a dark and spooky afternoon in Farragut, Tennessee–the smell of death was in the air. Detective Turner and I were sleuthing around for our next potential animal murder case. Then suddenly, our prayers were answered. We made the right onto Old Stage Road, precisely across from the creek bike trail and there it was. Identified: a north american gray squirrel, male, split into three pieces, and covered in tire tracks. “Hmm” we thought, “who would have committed such a crime to an innocent bystander?”  So, our case study began.

First, we assessed the whole crime scene. According to our mathematical expertise, the severed body indicated a car going approximately 55-60 miles per hour. “Look at these tire tracks,” said Detective Turner, “they are Continentals, a brand used specifically by BMW.” An interesting analysis, we thought. Now it was on to our analysis of potential witnesses. We spoke with a resident of the area, a turtle located in the nearby creek. The turtle did not speak much; we assumed this was from the initial shock of the accident, which could only mean that it happened recently. The pieces were beginning to come together, the evidence was falling into place, it was all adding up, it all made sense now, you guys get the idea. “Detective Leuven,” said Detective Turner, “is this blood located on your front right tire?” I replied with the truth, “No sir, it is in fact Kool-aid…Oh yeeeeeah.” “Back to business then,” Turner said.

We interviewed another resident of the area, a local dog that lived across the street from the crime scene. He continued to bark and snarl as if he smelled the fear of a killer. “Wait, Detective Leuven, isn’t this your dog?” said Detective Turner. I replied as best I could, “No Detective, this is not my dog.” Just then my mom walked out and started calling for what was in fact, my dog. We looked for it in the yard, but it was not there.

We looked at the road and Marley, my dog, was eating the remains of the squirrel. “The evidence!” Detective Turner shouted. Out of an initial reaction I yelled, “Marley! Get away from that!” Marley promptly ran back inside with my mom. “So it was your dog?” Turner said to me. I froze. “I’m going to have to take you in for questioning, Detective Leuven.” I started running for my house, but I tripped on one of the three squirrel parts. I laid there in agony. “This is it,” I thought, “I’m done for.”  “Detective Leuven, did you or did you not hit this squirrel with your BMW, going 55-60 miles per hour, at 4:20 this afternoon, and have your own dog try to destroy the evidence?” I broke. “Yes! It was me ok? I committed this murder, but it was not malicious. This squirrel ran in front of my vehicle and did this to itself. I am not guilty.” Detective Turner let me off the hook with my plea and we moved on to the next case. I cried for 20 minutes that day.

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The Mysterious Case of the Dying Squirrel