Have you any stash?

We recently purchased a new, larger bird feeder. Our smaller one was doing a great job feeding only the finches, nuthatches, and other smaller birds, but I really missed the big guys… woodpeckers, the occasional flicker, and most of all, my cardinals.  Even though the cardinals were on the box of the smaller feeder, it just wasn’t to their liking.

Predictably, it was just a matter of time before the squirrels bellied up to the sunflower seed bar that’s hanging from off my deck. One has started hanging by his (her?) toes from the top while he dines to his heart’s content from the easy pickins.

I have nothing against squirrels, really.  I find their antics comical.  But, frankly, the price of seed has gone up just like everything else, and my intention was to feed birds…

Working from home today, I gazed out, and our furry contortionist was having a late brunch.  I pounded on the windows.  The squirrel looked up as if to say “hey!” then went back to his (her?) meal. I pounded some more.  The only result was that my hand hurt and the squirrel remained entrenched at the feeder.

I looked at Penny. Time to earn that kibble, girl.

Now, when our precious Oscar was with us, the mere sound of the word “squirrel” would send him into a fury. He’d fly to the door going out to the deck, barking his fool head off, and wait to be released to do his level best to catch the offending creature. We could say “squirrel” and he’d leap up onto the chair to see out the window to get a look at his prey.  We’d open the door to the back yard and he’d run straight to the tree where he just knew they lived, barking for them to come down and meet their doom.

Eventually, the word “squirrel” was banned in our house in favor of the less troublesome “furry tailed rodent” or “FTR” for short.

Penny looked up at me waiting for a treat.  “Penny!  Squirrel!”

A totally blank stare came back at me.  I went to the door to the deck.

“SQUIRREL!!!  SQUIRREL!!” I  screamed as I opened the door.  The squirrel, oblivious to all the commotion, was still hanging onto the feeder.

Penny sauntered out onto the deck, walked right past where the squirrel had climbed up to access his brunch, and then turned around and looked at me like “what??”  Evidently unless there’s a visible treat, life doesn’t exist higher than dachshund head-level.

The squirrel, now seeing me on the porch, did his (her?) best dive off the feeder, into the hydrangea below, and across the yard and up the tree.

Up at the Rainbow Bridge, I’m sure Oscar was barking.

Comments on: "Not so much the mighty huntress…" (1)

  1. Oh my gosh!! My whole crew goes crazy at the mention of a squirrel!!

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