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The Secret Lives of Squirrels

I think squirrels lead double lives. On the surface they look cute, with their big, fluffy tails, but underneath there's a dark side.

My first hint came when I was growing up and my parents added a family room addition onto our home. Like any good 1970s era family room it included a sliding glass door that led out to a stonework patio. One day, I was amazed to see a squirrel walk right up to the sliding glass door and press his paws and face against the glass. He seemed to be peering inside. Apparently satisfied that the "coast was clear" he then proceeded to dig some newly planted flower bulbs from pots that my mother had left on the patio and eat them, leaving a messy pile of the bits that he didn't want behind as if he were in some full service, flower bulb diner with someone else to bus the tables. (And he didn't even leave a tip!)

My next unpleasant squirrel encounter came some years later, when my husband and I bought our first home. It was a lovely neighborhood. Our house sat high on a hill and our backyard sloped down to a small creek that traversed the entire subdivision. Beyond the creek was a small grove of walnut trees.

Our dog, a black and tan terrier mix, loved to run up and down the hill and across the little foot bridge that allowed us to cross the creek to the walnut trees. The walnut tree grove proved to be a popular squirrel hangout and one day our dog decided he would have a bit of fun. He went tearing down the hill toward a small congregation of squirrels in the middle of their walnut feast. They actually seemed to taunt him, waiting until he had nearly reached their group before scampering high up in to the various trees. As he barked at them helplessly from the ground, the squirrels seemed to be pelting him with walnuts! This battle repeated itself nearly every day for the entire time that we lived in that house.

By far my most harrowing squirrel episode occurred several more years down the road. I was living in another home surrounded by many lovely trees and plants. Although by this time I was a single mother with a four year old son, and the black and tan terrier was decidedly older and slower than before.

This house was a modern looking bi-level, where the upper level included the bedrooms of my son and me as well as an open loft which served as an upstairs family room. In one corner was a working fireplace.

One night I was awakened from a deep sleep by what I thought was a loud crash. But after making a quick

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