Everywhere you look, people are loading big bags of sunflower seeds into their cars, signaling the season of bird feeding. In the past, I’ve enjoyed gazing out my kitchen window to watch chickadees, nut hatches and purple finches taking turns on our feeder.
Last year, however, the only turn was taken by an upside-down black squirrel—who could empty the cylinder in one day. At first my husband and I were optimistic we could outwit these rascally rodents. I mean, really, we are human beings—at the top of the food chain.
We’ll just move the feeder a little to the north. Well, maybe a little to the south. Maybe higher; maybe lower. The sound you hear is squirrels laughing their tails off. At each location it took the squirrels an hour or two max to figure out a new route from roof to branch to feast. It was humiliating to be outsmarted by a creature with a brain the size of a what—an acorn?
So, the question now is, how much are we willing to invest in whatever passes for a squirrel-proof feeder? Meanwhile, I no longer speak of being out-foxed; the correct term is out-squirreled.