Imagine some hunters’ delight when they see a doe bleat call with bellows operation. As effortless to use as the traditional can bleats, except now you don’t even need to be bothered to tilt it. Well—too bad it’s garbage! Just like the traditional tilt cans, the Squeezin’ Bleat sounds pretty much nothing like a doe. The pitch is just plain wrong, and the duration is always off. At least the Squeezin’ Bleat attempts to rectify these issues by giving the hunter greater control over the manipulation of the sound, but even then, versatility means nothing if the correct sound is perpetually out of reach. The volume is acceptable, but the sound is completely off regardless, so the only thing that that decent volume is going to do is hurt your chances of seeing anything. Interestingly enough, you can try to force the can to operate as a standalone bleat can without the rubberized bellows, but the sound is just... weird. The call gets truncated. It’s like an incomplete bleat or something, though this product was never meant to be tilted anyways. Bellows or no bellows, it’s not as if the Squeezin’ Bleat is going to sound like a doe in any case. In fact, removing the can from the bellows is the way that this call is supposed to be muted—and this is where this call becomes an even bigger headache than it already is. When you carry them separately, the two pieces of the Squeezin’ Bleat take up even more room than they did before. And when you fit the call back together, it often (like 90% of the time) forces the trapped air inside the bellows out through the can, causing unwanted bleats and pieces of bleats to come whimpering and wavering out of the call, dooming your hunt as you try to house the can back inside its awkward receptacle. You can try to circumvent this by sticking the entire Squeezin’ Bleat into your pocket or backpack, but as things come into contact with the bellows, it will start bleating at unwanted times. Attempting to remove the Squeezin’ Bleat from your pocket is also another great way to risk making unwanted bleats. And there doesn’t appear to be any way to wear the Squeezin’ Bleat on a lanyard; not that that would probably help much, since this thing would be bouncing all over the place as you navigated the forest hills, emitting accidental bleats every time it smacked against your chest. In summation, this thing is unrealistic in sound, rendering useless whatever volume and versatility it claims to have. Un-muting or simply carrying this call introduces the risk of producing unwanted noise. And when you actually *can* get it to cooperate, the Squeezin’ Bleat is just not that good anyway. Dad saw me messing with my Squeezin’ Bleat one day, and then he wanted one. I bought him one, but I probably should have just given him my own, because I ended up junking mine. If you buy it, you should throw it in the garbage right away. That’s where mine went.
