Sometime in the early
1970s, one of the builders in what is now Meadows Place grew irritated with the
number of squirrels occupying the majestic trees in his upscale Memorial area
home. He had his crew set traps, capture
as many squirrels as possible & transport the furry tailed rodents to the unincorporated
area formerly known as The Meadows.
Or so the local legend
goes.
As the trees Jack
& Jean planted in the back yard grew, so did the yard’s squirrel
population.
Growing up, I never
thought about the squirrels much. Had I known then that Rocky the Flying
Squirrel was a rodent, I might have paid more attention.
And stopped watching
the cartoon.
In the interest of
transparency, I have to disclose that I despise squirrels. I would despise squirrels even if I had never
discovered that they were rodents with a furry tail.
For the past thirty
odd years, I have waged open war on the squirrels in our backyard.
I understand that
squirrels are part of our ecosystem. I
just want them to behave or be part of that system anywhere but my back yard.
Squirrels are not cute
& fluffy. Like all rodents, they
possess continuously growing incisors on both their upper & lower jaws.
Continuously
growing. Ever ready to chomp down, to
destroy, to infect. As fellow mammals,
negotiation would appear to be advisable.
Over the years, I have
tried to coexist peacefully – but squirrels do not play well with others.
I have fed them, filling
a squirrel feeder with squirrel food. I
have given them gobs of yummy corn cobs to feast upon. I have respected their presence in our shared
space.
And still the
squirrels constantly attempt a coup to conquer the bird feeder.
No amount of
redirecting has resulted in a truce, in a lessening of attacks, in the
establishment of a neutral zone.
Recently, I tried
oiling the feeder pole. The squirrels
laughed.
I tried placing a
cactus with enormous prickly spine needles at the base of the feeder pole. The squirrels laughed.
I read that while
birds like red pepper flakes mixed in their food, squirrels hate it.
But because my
squirrels have lived for generations in Texas, their taste buds are unfazed by
hot & spicy.
So they laughed.
In desperation, I went
to where we all go for answers sooner or later – first, Google & then, Amazon.
There I discovered the
Audubon Wrap Around Squirrel Baffle.
Available for next day delivery with Prime.
When the Baffle
arrived, I was hesitant. But it was a
gamble I was willing to take.
If the squirrels were
unable to penetrate the Baffle, there was hope for tolerable coexistence.
If the Baffle was
unable to deter the squirrels, it could be returned, with disappointment.
Initial installation
was a challenge, but after attempts, the Baffle remained in place.
And then the squirrels
descended from their lairs in the trees.
I watched.
I watched as those furry tailed rodents tried
to climb the feeder pole – only to crash into the Baffle’s barrier.
I watched as squirrels
circled the area under the Baffle barrier, contemplating their ascent. I watched as they attempted a flying leap, only to
slide down its edge under their own weight.
I watched all of this
devoid of sympathy or compassion.
Indeed, I watched with a sadistic satisfaction.
After several days
devoid of avian feeding, I told my brother that I thought the birds were
intimated by the Baffle.
He replied: They will get over it.
One morning, after
days of doubting the wisdom of my weapon of choice, the first birds reappeared.
A pair of cardinals.
Not a pair of doves,
but still a sign of peace. Or at least,
a sign of peaceful co-existence.
After many weeks, the
furry tailed rodents began to reappear.
Especially after the rain.
But still Baffled.
However, unknown to
me, the furry tailed rodents had spent their time away plotting – devising a
strategy to outwit the Baffle.
Although I have yet to
discern the details of their strategy, I have witnessed them hanging from the
tray of the bird feeder. Baffle in
place.
The furry tailed
rodents have underestimated my commitment to protect the bird feeder from
invasion.
Recently, I replaced
Chris Stapleton in the CD of my car with Springsteen’s Born in the USA. Springsteen has a way of renewing my
resolve, my confidence.
So I wait & I
watch, the same refrain playing in my soul:
No retreat, baby, no surrender.
This battle is not over.
