One day the squirrels didn’t come. Not at daybreak, not at noon, not in the afternoon. I was surprised by my concern. I had grown more fond of the four young squirrels than I realized.
They had made our front yard part of their playground earlier this summer. It is also their dining area, as they did all sorts of acrobatics and contortions to hang on the bird seed feeder, then take a nibble at the grape jelly dish before they went to the bird bath for a drink. And then they played, chasing and jumping and tumbling, no different than puppies and kittens.
The whole show amazed and amused me, a welcome diversion in the summer of losing the second of our two little dogs. Squirrels don’t replace dogs, but they had become a welcome daily sight. And after years of trying to keep squirrels off the bird feeders, I struck a deal with the bushytails. They provide entertainment, I provide sunflower seeds. (In truth, I simply surrendered, tired of the battle.)
In my new Zen approach, the squirrels’ acrobatics and comedy are rewarded. The birds still come, so what’s the big problem, besides a bit more strain on the seed budget? To watch squirrels hang perfectly upside down from the feeder by their toes as they nibble seeds, then do a pull-up to get more seed, drops my jaw. The least I can do is support the arts.
Oh, the little squirrels test me sometimes, taking to chewing on the deck boards, even with a layer of deck stain on the treated lumber. I’ve never figured that out, but the squirrels appear to suffer no ill effects. They will also take 6-inch long strips of lilac bark, running through the yard with the strands hanging out from both sides of their mouth. Is it for fun, like a dog’s ball? Or, perhaps for their nest?
Some summer days, in the heat of the afternoon, they take turns lazing on a low horizontal branch of the small maple tree near the feeder. It’s a prime spot, and there are spats at times over who gets to rest there. A piece of unspilt firewood I happened to place near the tree one day has become their springboard to the branch. When I moved it, my wife questioned why, saying the squirrels liked it. You see, she’s softened on the critters too. I put it back.
So, what of the day they didn’t come? Well, after supper, while doing dishes with the bird feeder right outside the kitchen window, I suddenly saw the squirrels dashing across the street, bent on our yard. In an instant they were on the feeder, chasing each other around the bottom of the pole, leaping on and off the chunk of maple. Where they had spent the day, who knows? Perhaps the Twin Cities.
I shouted to my wife, “The squirrels are here!” with such glee I surprised myself. Can you believe it?