From the Times, If Town Clears Out, It Must Be Squir­rel Sea­son:

Squir­rel sea­son opened at dawn Sat­ur­day, and with­in min­utes the retort of shot­guns boomed through this part of Evan­ge­line Parish. Else­where, squir­rels might be viewed as rats with good pub­lic relations.

…

While fathers and sons hunt this week­end, wives and daugh­ters shop in Baton Rouge, 70 miles to the east, or in Lafayette, 45 miles to the south. But some women can­not resist the woods, includ­ing Aly­cia McDaniel, the home­com­ing queen at Pine Prairie High. “Excite­ment rush­es through your body when you see a squir­rel and you say, ‘I’ve got to shoot it,’ ” she said.

…

Today, although squir­rel meat is prized for its sweet taste in a brown sauce or in a gum­bo, and brains are con­sid­ered a del­i­ca­cy by some, this open­ing week­end is “about the out­ing, not the killing,” said Stephen Mayeux, senior vice pres­i­dent of Cit­i­zens Bank in Ville Platte.

…

“If you pick up a live squir­rel, you nev­er will again,” Mr. Cary said, expos­ing the ani­mal’s large and sharp front teeth. “They bite and they hold on. I had a cousin once who got his face all scarred up.”

On Thurs­day, Mr. Cary gave Jason an ear­ly birth­day present: a large fox squir­rel the boy had killed last year mount­ed on a piece of drift­wood. Jason said he could not think of hav­ing got­ten a bet­ter present.

But unlike those hicks in Louisiana, peo­ple in Mass­a­chu­setts like to fish for squirrels.