A gentleman had written to a daily paper about his
meat-eating habits that didn’t cost him anything as he collected, cooked and
ate road-kill. Not something I’ve ever done but it was his mention of squirrel
tasting like bacon that had me thinking about our recent difficulties. Yes,
squirrels!
 |
| Cheeky seed thief |
Now I know lots of people think of them as tree rats but,
and I’m almost ashamed to say, the bushy tail has me thinking otherwise………..so
cute…………. and husband and I do quite enjoy watching their acrobatic displays in
the garden. Ooh, the cheeky little imps, how clever they are. But not when swinging from our birdfeeders! For
crying out loud we can’t afford to feed the birds, the squirrels, the dog,
ourselves, Tom, Dick, Harry and any other bod that wonders in with a fancy for
a bite to eat. Hrrumph even the mice
have been known to help themselves from the sack of seeds when someone has
forgotten to close it! Indeed, they had
the cheek to let us see them before doing a runner.
The birds used to flock to the feeder until, having worked
out how to reach it, Mr and Mrs Squirrel - and for all we know their sons and
daughters, aunts, uncles, cousins and all and sundry that appeared to be
invited - started to come to the what was fast turning out to be a garden party
to rival the Queen’s regular gatherings. Open house, open all hours seems to
have become the rule. Now the birds hardly ever call because there is either no
room or no food left at the inn!
So what to do? Send out the dog? Nah, wouldn’t work. She’s not much bigger than a squirrel and she
couldn’t even fit a squirrel’s nuts in her tiny mouth. Even some old hazelnuts
thrown into the field in an attempt to mislead failed abysmally. Oh what fools
we are.
 |
| The Dog Bo, shes only little! |
Obviously, it was time for some seriously drastic action so we bought two
squirrel-proof feeders, one for fat balls and one for the seed. We couldn’t
wait for this new start in our little garden (haha, and life). Would the The
Squirrel Family be deterred?
Well yeh, for all of two days. They learnt to swing the
feeder while clinging to the pole with their back claws. Aargh, the cheeky
little imps, how clever they are!
SO WHAT TO DO? Grease the pole, that’s what! And I did. I used my best extra virgin olive
oil giving it a good all over coating. Oh how I laughed and laughed when Mrs
Squirrel attempted to climb it. No chance. “Get a grip, darlin’” , I said,
covering my mouth with my hand and trying not to smirk. So she climbed the
beautiful acer (golden ??) and promptly slipped down and here perhaps I should
state no harm was done in this exercise. But oh how we laughed and laughed. In
fact it was one big laugh. For all of three days.
What happened? Yes,
you’re right, The Squirrel Family solved the, or I should say their problem, by
jumping from the acer tree onto the top of the pole and wrapping their back
legs around the other feeder. Right, now I’m going to move the fat ball feeder
and re-oil the pole. Let’s see if that works because if it doesn’t I’m
certainly not going to chop my acer down.
So, whilst I’d rather eat pig……………………………………………………………
