You see birds at the feeders in your yard. Sorry. It’s not two-fisted birdwatching. It’s too-easy birdwatching.
If you see a woodpecker on a feeder that’s okay, but if you see one in the woods, that counts more. You know this.
What you might not know is that underneath your two-fisted attitude lurks a heart that can feel sorry for a squirrel under certain conditions.
Squirrels, otherwise known as “damn squirrels,” are the enemy of feeder-watching. No matter how you try to baffle them, they find ways of getting at your seeds, and suet too. One recently disassembled a suet cage and left it on the ground for you to find in the morning.
You kinda hate them. Even though feeder watching is too tame to be called two-fisted, you indulge a bit. So what’s with that “feeling sorry” comment?
Yesterday the big daddy of all squirrels was sitting on your suet cage after working his way down a skinny pole. Couldn’t have been easy, but he wanted what he wanted.
You rap on the window, and he glowers back. Then he takes another defiant bite of suet as the feeder rocks under his weight.
You’d noticed a red-headed woodpecker waiting a turn in the distance. But he wasn’t gonna get close.
You’re a little sore at that rat of a rodent and you stalk out the back door with a bang, headed for the suet.
He sees you coming, and to him you’re a mad monster who’s a hundred times larger so the little guy jumps a mile, falls off, and hits the ground. Hard.
He lands on all fours okay, but the thing is, you HEARD the “thwack” that landing made. Squirrel feet meeting unyielding earth.
“Ouch,” you say aloud to your surprise. The squirrel freezes, stunned. That was a DROP.
Oddly you’re uncharacteristically worried. A moment ago, you hated this thief, but now you’re feeling sorry.
As you near, he scurries quickly away. Was he hurting? Was his bell rung? You figure—hell, yeah. How do you feel? Bad! Guilty. Worried. Sorry. Empathetic.
Not two-fisted. Too-worried.
C’mon, you think, the poor guy just wanted free suet. It cannot be explained to him that it’s there for birdwatching, not a squirrel’s snack.
All you know is that you scared the crap out of a tiny creature and caused him to drop a distance that would equal a ten-story building to a human.
You say to the universe: my apologies! I’m NOT going to scare squirrels anymore. If one wants a little suet—big freakin’ deal.
I suggest that the birds start stealing the squirrel’s acorns and hiding them. That’ll teach’em.
Aw, give the poor guy a break!!
Similar issue with squirrels. Chasing them away is a waste of time. After humanely relocating 10 squirrels to the far side of the lake, we haven’t had a squirrel at any of our feeders since June! The traps are still at the ready.
A 2-fisted approach to the rodent kingdom Dr Bob!
I understand, be kind the animals, yes however this animal knows that you really can’t do him any harm. He will repeatedly taunt you knowing that you’re really unable to do him any damage. He therefore will forgo the suet for a short time, only to return and actually stare at you as he enters the cage of the suet feeder.
I even thought at one time I saw a smile on his face.
This is an animal that knows what he’s doing and it’s not just for food and by the way it’s not just a little Suet… he will take it all if he’s able to, denying the birds have their much-needed nutrition.
The suet it is for birds!
Acorns are for squirrels.