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’!
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