Summer Notes
Chip-Chip, the character who motivated this blog, continues to live behind the front step, suns himself in the afternoon, and has grown somewhat shy—perhaps from recent visits by stray cats or by the population explosion of grey squirrels that swipe the food and water left out for him.
Chipper seems to have disappeared altogether. He or she lived in the burrow along the foundation of the neighbor’s garage. Since a strong storm and heavy rains flooded the burrow, I worried that any babies would be drowned. But I didn't worry about Chipper. Given chipmunks’ ability to create multiple escape routes, it was unlikely that Chipper was drowned out.
Rose, to a large degree, has stolen the story line. She is now so tame that she practically jumps in my lap when I’m sitting on the deck; she will follow me around in the garden and jump up on my running shoes if I don’t offer her a peanut quickly enough; and, as already mentioned, she will invite herself into the house. She has gotten so aggressive and so tame that at feeding time she jumped into the basket on the grill trying to solicit peanuts from me—and the grill was full of white-hot coals. Covering the lid and warning Rose of the dangers of getting to close to an oven, I imagined for a moment the possibility of roast chipmunk.
Rose also chases off Junior if they get too close to each other on the deck. Junior will usually approach Rose and sniff noses; she rebuffs the affection and shoes away the adolescent. Nothing violent. But Junior knows enough not to bother her. Junior is also not the only half-pint chipmunk, as earlier and erroneously reported. Junior in fact has a sibling. Scooter. The back yard now has two chipmunks from Generation Next.
Finally, just as Rose chases off the junior generation, the catbirds have been more than a little aggressive in keeping the chipmunks away from their nest. For shy birds, the catbirds chase away the chipmunks any chance they get, and, in one instance, a catbird attacked Rose just as I was handing her a peanut, right in front of me. I was caught off guard and said something intelligent like, “Hey!” And Rose scampered off until the catbird settled in the nearby juniper tree. Undeterred by the catbird, Rose returned and continued to beg from me.
The catbird meowed from the branch, keeping a close eye on me as well. It didn’t seem too happy that I was an ally of its archenemy.
That’s some chutzpah from the notoriously shy bird. Apparently, where their young are concerned, catbirds are capable of surprising boldness.
Chip-Chip, the character who motivated this blog, continues to live behind the front step, suns himself in the afternoon, and has grown somewhat shy—perhaps from recent visits by stray cats or by the population explosion of grey squirrels that swipe the food and water left out for him.
Chipper seems to have disappeared altogether. He or she lived in the burrow along the foundation of the neighbor’s garage. Since a strong storm and heavy rains flooded the burrow, I worried that any babies would be drowned. But I didn't worry about Chipper. Given chipmunks’ ability to create multiple escape routes, it was unlikely that Chipper was drowned out.
Rose, to a large degree, has stolen the story line. She is now so tame that she practically jumps in my lap when I’m sitting on the deck; she will follow me around in the garden and jump up on my running shoes if I don’t offer her a peanut quickly enough; and, as already mentioned, she will invite herself into the house. She has gotten so aggressive and so tame that at feeding time she jumped into the basket on the grill trying to solicit peanuts from me—and the grill was full of white-hot coals. Covering the lid and warning Rose of the dangers of getting to close to an oven, I imagined for a moment the possibility of roast chipmunk.
Rose also chases off Junior if they get too close to each other on the deck. Junior will usually approach Rose and sniff noses; she rebuffs the affection and shoes away the adolescent. Nothing violent. But Junior knows enough not to bother her. Junior is also not the only half-pint chipmunk, as earlier and erroneously reported. Junior in fact has a sibling. Scooter. The back yard now has two chipmunks from Generation Next.
Finally, just as Rose chases off the junior generation, the catbirds have been more than a little aggressive in keeping the chipmunks away from their nest. For shy birds, the catbirds chase away the chipmunks any chance they get, and, in one instance, a catbird attacked Rose just as I was handing her a peanut, right in front of me. I was caught off guard and said something intelligent like, “Hey!” And Rose scampered off until the catbird settled in the nearby juniper tree. Undeterred by the catbird, Rose returned and continued to beg from me.
The catbird meowed from the branch, keeping a close eye on me as well. It didn’t seem too happy that I was an ally of its archenemy.
That’s some chutzpah from the notoriously shy bird. Apparently, where their young are concerned, catbirds are capable of surprising boldness.
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