Squirrels Climb Trees

I’m an avowed tender-heart. But I have my limits. When we first moved out here, I hoped we could coexist with all the critters whose territory we were invading. And we’ve pretty much succeeded in this. Even those cute red squirrels got some attention from me. I used my hippie vibe energy magic waves to try to tell them you can live here as long as you don’t wreck anything. They seemed to hear the “live here” part, but not the wreck stuff. As they chewed through the insulation and damaged wires, I contemplated getting a gun as my neighbors had, but I just couldn’t bring myself to kill them.

The solution was live traps. We’ve had two of them, and the little guys can’t seem to resist a few tablespoons of sunflower seeds planted on the pressure lever inside the trap. Usually once I see a red squirrel rooting around under the feeders and put out the trap, I have the little guy within an hour. Then what?

I’ve chosen a secret location about 5 miles from our home that is as far away from anyone else’s home as possible. Franko and I load the trapped squirrel in the back of the truck and drive to our deserted spot. I then open the cage door, and out it shoots, eagerly looking for the nearest tree and safety.

Franko likes squirrels, and has a very poor record with them around the house. They are very fast, and can climb a tree before his nose is completely out the door. He still runs up the tree and looks up at the squirrel with a longing that is hard to describe. The squirrel, of course, chatters tauntingly at Franko from the safety of the branches.

Franco has learned that when we stop at the secret spot, that a squirrel will be released. And that it will be vulnerable. I try to wait until he is otherwise occupied until I release the squirrel, because once it runs out of the trap, it can’t always find a tree right away. Today I waited for my moment, opened the cage door, and the squirrel took off. Franko, being pretty quick himself, was there in a flash, and the squirrel, all 3 pounds of him (compared to 90 pounds of Franko) climbed the nearest tree that was available… me!

I didn’t actually see it, but I could feel it running up my pants, and around my back as Franko chased around. Finally the poor squirrel seemed to realize the mistake it had made, and jumped down and found a close-by tree to climb to safety. I have been compared to trees in my life (ie stately, tall, brilliant) but today was the first time I’d been mistaken for one. I felt quite honored.

Leave a Reply