The Squirrel and I

Anyone who know me will tell you I love nature. My garden is my pride and joy; I religiously fill my bird feeders (only in winter); love to see trees preserved; and will stop on any highway to move a turtle. But I have an ongoing war...a serious 3-megaton-war...with the hairly rats called 'squirrels'.

It started 20 years ago when I set up my first slab-style feeder to watch birds after having major surgery and needing something besides my scar to look at for 2 months. Within hours, the squirrels had discovered this new cache of food and completely cleaned it out before I ever saw a single bird! The war was on! By the end of the first week, I was hiding behind the doorframe, pea-shooter at the ready, to try and give one of those little rats an real 'ass-zinger'. Luckily for the squirrels, my aim was less than accurate so no serious damage ever occurred...except that I nearly choked to death on a mouthful of peas...but it started what was to become as "The Squirrel Wars".

I don't believe for a second that squirrels are the dumbest rodents on the earth (definitely above earth worms) and I'll bet they can pass info down from one generation to another...you know...genetic implanting...so for the last 2 decades the battle has continued and I find I'm just moving slower (the broom has replaced the pea-shooter), and they are getting faster. There are now 3 'regulars'--a red one, a black one, and a grey one (I saw the grey and black squirrels doing some 'funny business' in the tree so there may be some Dalmatian ones next year--who knows).

When I launch myself through the patio doors, broom raised and ready to throw/smack/poke, and yelling something like, "Bugger, outta here, s-s-s-s-s-s-s", it's really a sight to behold! The neighbours love it--most of them are old and retired like us so any entertainment is welcomed to break up the day--although it's not a pretty sight in the early morning.

The squirrels have a new gymnastic routine this year and I'm almost enjoying it. They sneak up the railing, eyes on the lookout for me, and when I blast out the door they do a flying leap into the hedge, about 3 ft. I may be solely responsible for creating a new species--the Non-Flying squirrel who isn't supposed to fly but does (when threatened with a broom by a crazy woman). One of these days there's going to be an impaled squirrel in the hedge--I feel bad, but war is hell!