Well, at least we usually do. In this case, A. gave them to the neighbor on whose land he was hunting, as a goodwill gesture. And yes, it is a goodwill gesture in her case, because she grew up eating squirrel and loves it. Since you can't exactly pick one up at your nearest Safeway, she's thrilled when A. gives her some squirrels.
That's the kind of neighbor we like.
But we eat them when we're not giving them to the neighbor. Last time we ate squirrel was the night before I went into labor with Cubby. Someone suggested that perhaps there was a connection there. I'll let you know if I ever have the opportunity to test that hypothesis again.
A. brines them after they're skinned and cleaned. This probably results in a milder flavor, as it draws a lot of blood out. We usually cook them in a stew, and they taste like . . . well, like braised meat. I dunno. They certainly don't have a gamy flavor. I guess like dark meat chicken? Or extremely mild beef? Whatever. It tastes like squirrel. Because that's what it is.
So that's what you do with squirrel. Or at least, what we do with squirrel. Oh, and if you save the tails and dry them, there's a company that will take them in exchange for free fishing lures. I guess they use the fur to tie flies. So now we have four squirrel tails sitting in our shop, drying on a board. Lovely.