The Passing of Cyril the Squirrel

 Recently my brother travelled over from Lincolnshire for Sunday lunch. Occasionally in the past he has treated us with a tasty offering like a haslet or some choice Lincolnshire sausages. The family were secretly hoping for a traditional Plum Loaf but this time he arrived with another old favourite from my childhood, Stuffed Chine. Sadly the chine did not receive much of a welcome, except from me. The rest of them turned their noses up when they saw the bacon joint generously striped with green parsley. Even after trying a morsel dowsed in vinegar they remained unconvinced of its merits. But though the reception for the chine was pretty disappointing it was as nought to that which greeted a second offering. My brother brought something I had not seen for nearly forty years, a stuffed red squirrel called Cyril.

In fact Cyril has never really been appreciated by my family since I first acquired him. At the age of 14 or 15 I was given the squirrel by a work colleague of my mother, District Nurse Taylor who lived, with Cyril, in a cottage in the grounds of Tattershall Castle. As I recall he had belonged to her father and I understood that he had acquired the squirrel in the castle grounds before having it stuffed in 1917. Therein lays confusion. I have recently been informed that red squirrels had all disappeared from the area before the end of the 19^th century.

What is the truth? There are no other clues other than  the fact that the rear of the case is lined with a page from the Lincoln Stamford and Rutland Mercury.
My mother had never really taken to Cyril although she allowed him to sit on a shelf in my bedroom until i left for college. When she died and her cottage was cleared my brother rediscovered Cyril in the roof space. He transferred him to his own garage where he remained for the last ten years. now he has rebeen returned to me but the wife has delivered an ultimatum either the squirrel goes or else… I have  had to make plans.
I decided to offer Cyril to our recently established school museum. Sadly the present curator, who up until now I considered a friend, was hardly thrilled and declined my offer saying he found it creepy and disturbing (personally I think this a wimpish excuse). He suggested I offer it to our Science coordinator to become an aid to teaching about mammals, food chains and the like. The science coordinator was equally unimpressed saying it freaked him out and couldnt have it in the room (another wimp).

I have therefore had to think again. I have considered it putting on display in my own classroom as the children seem to like the squirrel but my work colleagues are none too keen on the idea of Cyril watching over them when they use the room. I thought I might donate him to the school as a parting gift when I retire. But I suspect he would end up in the cellars or worse still be put up for sale at the next school jumble once funding starts to dwindling after the next inevitable round of financial cutbacks. Then another colleague suggested I smuggled him into Calke Abbey and hide him amidst the surplus of stuffed exhibits that the last of the Harpur-Crewes left around the decaying mansion. No-one would spot another amongst so many. Unfortunately the staff would probably spot a parcel being carried in passed the ticket desk. 

  I have already refused the indignity of trying to sell Cyril on Ebay. Then a solution presented itself to me. The son of a work colleague was rushed into hospital in the early hours one day last week with a suspected appendicitis. Talking over lunch a few days earlier it was revealed to me that the lad had an interest in taxidermy and so I decided that I would bite the bullet and hand Cyril over to a new owner who I know would really appreciate him.

Cyril the Squirrel

I would, however still like to know whether he was really a Lincolnshire red squirrel or just another of them ‘frim folk’.