Sometimes I feel a little guilty about the mean things I say about squirrels. Friends send me pictures of them in oh-so-cute situations. Am I charmed by such? Not a chance. I’ve also received books on how to get rid of them, articles on critter control, and videos of contraptions to stump or terrorize them. One video showed a pricey bird feeder which begins to spin if a squirrel climbs on. If I had one, the tree rat would spin off and land on my back, or I’d get plastered with squirrel vomit.
These things happen; don’t fool yourself. Just because I’m paranoid doesn’t mean the little bastards aren’t out to get me.
Look in the neighboring yards and you’ll realize that all the squirrel action is in ours. They’re running through my azalea beds, digging up the lawn, or chasing each other up the oak tree for gawd knows what deviate purpose. The goodies we put out to attract birds have transformed our yard into a 5-star rodent restaurant. It isn’t unusual to see more squirrels than birds hanging around. Not the plan when we put out all those feeders!
I’ve pulled up all my strawberry plants and have no plans to set out tomatoes this year. I’ve given up on planting colorful pots of annuals because the squirrels climb onto the pots and yank the plants out like they heard a rumor I hid a sack of peanuts in the bottom.
I’ve resorted to putting anything that might be of interest to them on a table on our second story deck. My pitiful collection currently consists of a lone tomato plant in a clay pot and a single twig of boxwood that I’m rooting. Bless pat, I looked out yesterday and damned if one of those varmints wasn’t sitting on the table with the boxwood twig in his paws. Why, why, why? Was he using it as a toothpick? The holes in my tomato plant soil must be precursors of a coming oak tree crop which will root-wrestle my tomato plant into oblivion.
And get this: I came home to find a cable repairman at the back of our lot recently. When I asked, “Are you improving our service?” he shook his head.
“I can’t fix this. They’ll have to send a crew out to put up at least ten feet of new wire. The squirrels have chewed this one worse than any I’ve ever seen and I’ve been doing it for ten years.”
Nothing is sacred around here. Not on the ground, not in the air.
It isn’t that I hate the damnsquirrels, but I do feel myself sliding in that direction.
Have you watched this amazing video?
Just so you know, I still rooted for the squirrel.
* * * * * * * * *
“Aunt Prune was holding one of the squirrels in her hand. ‘And once a day, we have ta clean their little private parts with a Q-tip, so they’ll learn ta clean themselves.’
That was a visual I didn’t need”
― Margaret Stohl, Beautiful Creatures