Thursday, January 9, 2014

Squirrel Tale

As I huddle in my igloo over winter I have little to do but watch my nails grow slow so I can scratch places that ordinarily require a hooked fireplace poker to stab in the crannies and jab under the nooks. Occasionally I will turn my attentions to the outside world when I’m forced to interact with a rival rabid Yeti, a mail fairy, or the late paper carrier pigeon. Consequently, squirrels are the only flea-bitten n’ fuzzy foe around here (other than myself) who face daily frigid forecasts of a freezing tundra, and our fat frozen TAILS way down ‘unda’.

Our dance begins on a whim, high in a tree on a flimsy sprig as I hang a durable oversized bird feeder filled to the brim to lure rodent rivals for exciting wintertainment games so close in. When temps fall low smart birds won’t show, but simple squirrels will freely unfurl, from nests as guests to play, with gusto at my seedy buffet. No matter how precariously placed the chow or deep the abyss, there’s always at least one rodent-Rambo who refuses to bow, and embraces the risk.  

Hence from my squirrely visitants I expect a good tease, and with single-mindedness and an unrelenting effort to seize, they raucously rock n’ knock my foodie taunts to appease. On a half inch branch, tails splayed towards sky, those acrobatic rats fight gravity and balance shyly to belie, a possibly impossible chance to die. Indeed for both sides the reward is great - worth the brisk risk in icy air to tempt fate; if the squirrels steal but a small snack for each cold show, then I’ve got a month’s worth of frozen fun lined up quid pro quo

But wait, my gray, fuzzy, buck-toothed brethren had a clandestine angle all of their own, to which was not privy me or trusted to be known. The shaking was relentless and it wasn’t from weather, the fearless fiendishly toppled my treed feeder to ground, and got not only one over me - but one better. In retrospect now too brave or too dim, my intrepid tree-bRATS weren’t content dining out on a limb. Clearly this crafty rogue rodent clan, prefers ‘take-home’ over pleasing me and conforming to plan. Since with no homage or a hint of respect for my deed, to the forest they hauled off WHOLE, both my pricey topped-off seed-feeder, and left me tounge-‘Teed’!


  1. Squirrels can be pretty ingenious when something stands between them and a bird feeder.

  2. At least those furry tree-rats brought out the poet
    in you. So don't keep him out. Just change your blob...
    er, Blog, to Poem of the Week. Or 'Weak' if you're
    feeling poorly. Anyway, we salute ingenuity wherever it
    is found. In your writing or in your squirrel's clever heists.

  3. wintertainment - good one - let the seedy games begin