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 check on my sleeping son and seeing nothing out of place I returned to my room and quickly went back to sleep.
The next morning, in the rush to get my son ready for day care and myself off to work on time, I didn't take much notice of the upstairs loft area. When I returned from work that afternoon, however, and went upstairs to change my clothes something definitely seemed amiss. The family room was much messier than I remembered leaving it. Because there was another family room and a playroom on the lower level of the house my son and I spent very little time in the upstairs loft, except in the winter when we would light the fireplace. As a result it generally stayed very tidy. It wasn't dirty, exactly but I could tell that things seemed to have been pushed around a bit. But it wasn't enough to make me extremely concerned. I just remember thinking, "That's odd," and spent a few minutes straightening up before I went down the hall to my room.
The next day, however, when I went upstairs I was completely shocked! The room was in total disarray. Lamps were turned over, pictures on the wall were crooked and the couch cushions were strewn all over. Thinking at first that someone had broken in and was searching for something I was unsure what to do. Should I call the police? Should I check to see if anything was missing? The door was locked when I came home and there were no signs of a break in. What could have happened?
While trying to wrap my brain around what could have occurred I picked up one of the couch cushions from the floor and a squirrel immediately popped out! I screamed, scaring it even further. In total shock I watched as the squirrel quickly scaled my draperies and came to rest on the top of the valance above the window.
Now what? My terrier, traumatized by his earlier encounters with the walnut chucking squirrels ran to the kitchen and refused to come out and my son thankfully was spending the weekend with his father. However, there was still the problem of the squirrel and there was nothing in my university experience or in my job training that was going to be even remotely useful in this situation.
Then I remembered my neighbors. Next door lived a family with three teenaged sons. I called and asked their mother if the boys would be willing to help me in removing the squirrel from my window valance. The oldest son was not at home but the mother told me that her middle son and his younger brother would be more than glad to help.
Fortunately for me the boys had far better ideas for dealing with the squirrel than I had been able to muster. The older brother first instructed his younger sibling to close all of the interior doors in the house and to open only the front door wide. He then asked for my broom and with his younger brother blocking the stairway to my lower level, gave the squirrel one good whack to dislodge it from its perch above my window and then successfully shooed it out the open front door.
After giving them my hearty thanks and a small reward I retrieved my cowering terrier from his hiding place in the kitchen and set about assessing the damage and begin cleaning up. After closer inspection I determined that my chimney flue wasn't completely closed and I supposed that the loud crash I had heard just a few nights before was actually the squirrel hitting the partially open flue after having fallen down my chimney.
Friends would laugh as I told the story, especially at the mental image of a squirrel peering down the chimney, losing its balance and falling to land squarely in the open hearth. But it is no laughing matter. My theory is that it was probably some sort of "Squirrel gang" initiation, requiring the prospective member to enter a home and wreak havoc in order to earn the right to sport the colors and intimidate the unaffiliated members of the animal kingdom on our block. Yes, I'm convinced that squirrels lead double lives.