From atop the wren house, Chipper keeps an eye out for another plunder by the grey squirrel.
The back yard is full of grey squirrels, lots of grey squirrels, ratty looking grey squirrels, chattering grey squirrels, aggressive, bullying, irritable, rambunctious grey squirrels, bird food stealing by the pound grey squirrels, hole digging in the garden grey squirrels, hole digging in the geranium pots and the begonia pots and petunia pots grey squirrels, and plump, oversized grey squirrels, bursting with what will undoubtedly be more and more hungry little grey squirrels.
In other words, feeding birds and chipmunks has led to an unintended consequence: grey squirrel population explosion. (If you ask me, they should all be deported. Canada would be a good destination--Monitoba or Saskatchewan or even the Northwest Territories for the biggest trouble makers--even if the grey squirrels were all born here and are legal residents or satisfy residency requirements. All you have to do is . . . ask for their papers.)
Politics aside, the explosion of grey squirrels has led to even more competition for food.
. . . And to a new problem for Chipper.
A stalker.
After feeding Chipper the usual allotment of peanuts, I noticed off in the distance that a grey squirrel was surveilling my activities. As Chipper plunked a peanut in his mouth and scurried around the woodpile looking for a place to hide his prized possession, the grey squirrel came even closer, cautiously at first, but with an evil glint in its eyes. Then, when Chipper wasn’t looking, the grey squirrel started rooting around between the logs and bark and rotting leaves, attempting to steal the peanut. It succeeded.
That wasn’t all.
Remember that in a confrontation with other critters the chipmunk sadly ends up the loser in just about all cases. That unfortunate fact of life proved again true as the grey squirrel chased him off his own territory. Poor Chipper retreated to his burrow along the neighbor’s garage and probably despaired over the loss of the peanut and the bullying he had rudely received.
So I did what I usually do—namely to interfere in the natural order of things. I took a couple peanuts and shoved them by hand into the entrance of Chipper’s burrow, far enough to extend beyond the reach of the grey squirrel. Then I gave the squirrel the evil eye and demanded that it “hit the road.” Reluctantly, it retreated to the nearby aspen, its tail waving furiously, as if to taunt me for interfering in the natural order of things.
Of all the things for chipmunks to worry about: Who would’ve thought it would also include stalkers?
In other words, feeding birds and chipmunks has led to an unintended consequence: grey squirrel population explosion. (If you ask me, they should all be deported. Canada would be a good destination--Monitoba or Saskatchewan or even the Northwest Territories for the biggest trouble makers--even if the grey squirrels were all born here and are legal residents or satisfy residency requirements. All you have to do is . . . ask for their papers.)
Politics aside, the explosion of grey squirrels has led to even more competition for food.
. . . And to a new problem for Chipper.
A stalker.
After feeding Chipper the usual allotment of peanuts, I noticed off in the distance that a grey squirrel was surveilling my activities. As Chipper plunked a peanut in his mouth and scurried around the woodpile looking for a place to hide his prized possession, the grey squirrel came even closer, cautiously at first, but with an evil glint in its eyes. Then, when Chipper wasn’t looking, the grey squirrel started rooting around between the logs and bark and rotting leaves, attempting to steal the peanut. It succeeded.
That wasn’t all.
Remember that in a confrontation with other critters the chipmunk sadly ends up the loser in just about all cases. That unfortunate fact of life proved again true as the grey squirrel chased him off his own territory. Poor Chipper retreated to his burrow along the neighbor’s garage and probably despaired over the loss of the peanut and the bullying he had rudely received.
So I did what I usually do—namely to interfere in the natural order of things. I took a couple peanuts and shoved them by hand into the entrance of Chipper’s burrow, far enough to extend beyond the reach of the grey squirrel. Then I gave the squirrel the evil eye and demanded that it “hit the road.” Reluctantly, it retreated to the nearby aspen, its tail waving furiously, as if to taunt me for interfering in the natural order of things.
Of all the things for chipmunks to worry about: Who would’ve thought it would also include stalkers?
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