Goodbye, little one

I never got to see the squirrel but, by two accounts, she was about a week old.

A rescuer phoned today reporting that he'd found a baby squirrel a couple of days ago and was seeking placement and proper care. He was hopeful I'd be the one to take the baby: He'd been given my name by a wildlife group which, unfortunately, didn't tell him that because of my full-time job and the newborns' high maintenance, I can't take any in.

Or perhaps that was fortunate: Because I at least had the name of a rehabber he could call - someone who not only rehabs newborn squirrels well but has an incubator and a full service nursery for them. He immediately called her and took the squirrel there.

The squirrel, which turned out to be a little female, died within an hour of his handing her over. Perhaps she had grown too chilled at one point earlier and never recovered fully from that dangerous loss of body heat. Perhaps it was the delayed aftereffects of prolonged exposure after she was orphaned but before she was brought indoors.

We will never know. I do know the instant I heard he had found someone to take her - and drove the baby there - I felt hope. An hour and a half later, I crashed when I heard the news. I thought that maybe, just maybe, today I could help save the life of one of the first newborn squirrels of the 2008 "spring baby" season.


I've been down this road before on the rare occasion I have had any newborns in my care for any period of time. They are fragile beings. They are born with everything they need to grow into perfect squirrels within a matter of weeks, but an interruption in their life - a fall from a tree, or being orphaned - challenges their realization of that destiny.

The photo on this page is not a photo of her - but it might as well be. I took this photo about 8 or 9 years ago after another rehabber stopped off at my house to show me the newborn she had just picked up. We did a very quick photo shoot (I had never seen a newborn squirrel before) and then she headed home.

This photo stands as one of many reminders that life is precious and fragile. In this photo he is pink and still breathing, the image of a viable newborn etched forever. But the baby in this photo didn't make it either. He died only hours later.

Happy endings and humility

There's nothing like being bested by a rodent or two to instill, or reinforce, one's humility.

Alaskan journalist, Richard Chiappone, tells of the philosophical war he had with his wife recently about the presence of the non-rent-paying tenants living the life of Martha Stewart under the roof of their cabin. She was pro-squirrel; he was anti.

Suspicious of their propensity toward chewing wires and wreaking other kinds of havoc, he set about displacing him. (Disclaimer: No squirrels were harmed in any of these acts.) The surprise ending is somewhat of a happy one (at least for the squirrels and his wife).

Here's the link. The narrative is a little like a squirrel tail itself - somewhat long and of course luxuriously bushy. But trust me, you will be glad you read whole thing.

http://www.anchoragepress.com/site/basicarticle.asp?ID=497

Social climbers

Inspired by having seen far too many cars on the road bearing the boastful bumper sticker, "This car climbed Mount Washington," I would like to suggest a certain bumper sticker for a certain squirrel in our yard.

"This squirrel climbed our storm door."

How he does it (and yes, it is a male) I do not know. That outside door, leading to the deck on the eastern side of our house, is pure smooth metal and glass. And unless this is the world's first rodent to have suction cups instead of claws affixed to the ends of his digits, I am baffled at where he comes by this talent.

He does this regularly and hangs there, looking in. Often he does this just as I'm settling down for my beloved breakfast of Scottish oatmeal with sliced banana. Or my lunch of chunky peanut butter on a toasted pumpernickel bagel. Or sometimes if I'm just having my coffee and reading whatever book I happen to be immersed in.

He disrupts me with his steely-eyed glare, delivered from a gravity-defying 6 feet on high, a climb miraculously achieved solely to fulfill his aim to manipulate through guilt: feed me. Feed me. Feed me again.

His appetite holds me hostage. So too does his athleticism and cuteness.

Today he was in position again, toward the very top of the door, staring in at me just as I started rinsing the dishes after lunch. Only this time, he had company - another squirrel was now hanging on the opposite side of the door.

Looks like I'll have to buy twice as many bags of nuts next time I go shopping.

And a second bumper sticker.

As American as apple pie

To some folks, there's nothing like apple pie, backyard barbecue, hot dogs and hamburgers to symbolize good old American cuisine. My vegetarian sensibilities have trouble with some of this, of course, but I am willing to accept them as part of our national culture. Some of my best friends do, after all, suffer from burger breath.

Much has been made lately of presidential hopeful Mike Huckabee's predilection toward collegiate squirrel-eating. Debates, jokes - and even a few recipes- have been added to the public verbal fray. One of the more recent entries into the dialectic is posted below, and was written to the Boston Globe, which posted it on their web site, boston.com

MIKE HUCKABEE, in my opinion an honorable man, has been ridiculed for eating fried squirrel while in college. This is better than smoking dope, swallowing goldfish, or stuffing people in phone booths. There was a time when squirrel was a mainstay in the diets of the Founders, who, at great risk of life and fortune, defended the principles upon which our nation was established.

I come from a part of the country where squirrel was common fare to the family of a hard-working coal miner. I now live in a part of the country where many people still eat squirrel. Some of us also eat rabbit, venison, frog legs, gator tail, catfish, and even a bite or two of rattlesnake every once in a while. We also are willing to defend the principles upon which our beloved nation was founded.

I find it interesting that this fellow equates squirrel-consumption with patriotism. I thought our nation's colors were red, white and blue - not gray and red. I am getting a whole new take on civics from this New Englander's letter to the newspaper.

So I will keep this in mind as our nation celebrates Presidents' Day on Monday, a federal holiday on which Americans give thought not just to the men who kept our country strong in years past, but those who, like Huckabee, aspire to lead our nation toward a brighter future.

In Huckabee's case, not so much brighter - but bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.

I shudder at the very thought.

Let's talk politics

The presidential election just got way too squirrelly for me.

A Wall Street Journal article about GOP candidate Mike Huckabee - already not the favorite on my list - recaps a recent TV interview Huckabee had with journalist Tim Russert. The interview concluded with a query about the now-famous "squirrel-eating episode" that capped Huckabee's collegiate days.

Here's an excerpt from the WSJ article:

Was it true, he asked the Republican contender, that he had fried squirrel in a popcorn popper in college? Mr. Huckabee confirmed his prior squirrel consumption but appeared to back away from defending the flavor. “It’s not the best thing in the world,” and doesn’t really taste like chicken, he conceded.

I realize there are regional and cultural differences in this world, even in this nation, when it comes to our choices for ingestion, and I also realize I'm at a disadvantage here as a vegetarian - but I also believe it's a big world and people have free choice.

But why in the 20th century with supermarkets, farm stands and the like would a presumably civilized person do this - with a popcorn popper no less?

I suppose we should be grateful he is in a political career and didn't pursue a culinary one. If he had morphed into the male Martha Stewart or Rachael Ray a lot of us would have had to head for the hills.

Still, I don't know what is in worse taste - the way he felt about squirrel or the way I feel about his candidacy.

The color of spring's squirrels

At about this time of year, when we are halfway through winter, people start thinking that soon they'll be trading snow's white for spring's green. At least that's how it is here in the Northeast.

In Brevard, N.C., however, folks stick with white, right up through May. And it's not because of unseasonally late snow storms.

This is the fifth year of that community's White Squirrel Festival. I've never been to it - in fact I have never even been to a Gray Squirrel Festival or a Black Squirrel Festival - but you can be sure the whole town goes (appropriately) nuts.

What's extra nice is that this year's festival is occurring within the Chinese New Year of the Rodent (or the Rat, to be more precise).

For some squirrels, it doesn't get much better than this!

Groundhog envy??

As the great entertainer, Jimmy Durante, used to say "everybody wants to get into the act."

An excerpt from the web site, news.scotsman.com, below - and this sweet photograph above, which appeared there - has me convinced that Groundhog envy is all the rage. The web site reports that this squirrel, a souslik, is a prognosticating Eurasian ground squirrel valued by the local zoo.

And you can easily see why this little creature is prized. Apparently too, like so many of the souslik's American cousins, it is also threatened with a shrinking population.

Here is the excerpt from the article that accompanied the photo:

Edinburgh Zoo's resident weather experts are a family of European sousliks, a type of ground squirrel and close relatives of the groundhog.And on Saturday the animals decided it was too cold to even emerge from their burrow – which is being taken as a sign the recent cold snap is set to continue.The US is also in for a long winter after Punxsutawney Phil, which featured in the hit movie Groundhog Day starring Bill Murray, emerged on Saturday and saw his shadow.

Edinburgh's version might not attract crowds as large as those that gather in Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania every year. But Graham Catlow, animal department manager at Edinburgh Zoo, said the sousliks' predictions would become a regular attraction."We've had them for 18 months, but I don't think anyone was really aware of this last year," he said. "This year the weather was just too cold so they decided to stay in bed, which is probably a pretty good sign that we are in for some more bad weather."

Six more weeks of winter!

Punxsutawney Phil has spoken.

OK, he's a cousin, not a conventional "squirrel," and his meteorological message was interpreted by humans, rather than transmitted by from word-of-rodent-mouth delivery. But he has told us six more weeks of winter and we obedient humans had best bundle up for the duration.

Groundhog Day finds its roots in old German tradition but its draw has somehow survived, and flourished, in the New World. Out west, we now have Prairie Dog
Day, honoring yet another squirrel cousin - this one, an endangered variety.

Does anyone suspect that the manufacturers of winter outerwear perhaps sponsor these Groundhog Day events, a true celebration of winter, with each outerwear company bribing their own local prognosticators (we have them in New York too), hoping to make a killing in late-season parka and snow boot sales?

Nah. Me neither. I'm cynical but I'm not quite that jaded. Not yet anyway.

I think it's great that this tradition endures, and has even evolved into something new in the western states - a plea for prairie dog preservation. This turns an old European superstition about a big burrowing squirrel into a plea for environmental awareness out West and protection of an imperiled animal.

Meanwhile, it's still winter. And it will be for a while. But we can look forward to a bright new season nonetheless, one of Increased Squirrel Awareness coming out of the shadows.

Scream for the squirrels!

Once again, the Super Bowl features an ad that focuses on squirrels. Fans will remember previous campaigns, including the famous "Running with the Squirrels," a high-tech company produced during a game a few years ago. Then there was the Trident chewing gum commercial in which a squirrel bit a dentist in a particularly, uh, sensitive nether-region spot.

This year, a Bridgestone tire commercial has decided to put Bushytails in the spotlight. Here is an excerpt from an article in Ad Age, the industry publication:

"The marketer's first Super Bowl commercial, which will air during the break between the first and second quarters, is dubbed "Scream" and shows how Bridgestone tires can keep a motorist from squishing a squirrel on the road. Shane Altman is the art director, and Mike Bales is the copywriter."

Not sure I like the idea of squirrels in peril on the road - and the magazine could have opted for a verb other than the slapstick "squish" in that description. I wasn't all that thrilled when I heard that a similarly imperiled squirrel appeared in the now-famous GEICO insurance commercial (in both instances the squirrel does survive, I happily note.)

But the suspense will be killing me, nonetheless.

And I do know this - while most folks will be screaming either for the Giant's Eli Manning or the Patriots' Tom Brady, I will find myself once again screaming for the squirrels.

I got tagged for a Meme

A challenge to this squirrelmama
invoked a bit of high drama:
using poems, off-the-shelf,
reveal a bit of myself,
and personalize this world of blog-o-rama.

Now, as to those 10 (HERE I GO!)
it's stuff most of you really don't know.
I love peace (I'm no fighter)
and I work as a writer,
and last year rode in a little horse show.

When it comes to air travel, I'm contrarian.
I'm also a true vegetarian.
One of life's biggest perils
is my love of gray squirrels
(And I've never been Rastafarian.)

I don't have my own iPod nano,
as a child, though, I studied piano.
(I really love music
if I'm not the one who do's it.)
And I'm even a classical fan, oh!

You've probably got a wild hunch
that I drink coffee like a big sponge
OK yes, you are right
time now to say g'nite
If you've read this far, well, THANKS A BUNCH!

The shape of things to come

Strangely enough this year there are no tattered faces coming to the back door. No head wounds, only a few limping paws, and no patchwork or torn coats spattered with blood.

The injuries of squirrel mating season, usually most evident in the combative males who suffer most for it, just don't seem to be as present this year. This means I have fewer injured adult outsiders to fret over right now and, hopefully, in a few weeks there'll be fewer newborns to worry about too.

Are they not mating? I can only wish. Or practicing a kindler, gentler coupling? Who knows?

In the weeks ahead we'll see what happens, or doesn't happen. But for now the land and trees beyond my back door appear to be a peaceable kingdom.

Football's "Squirrel Bowl"

Much to my surprise, and perhaps a bit to my horror too, I have grown to like football.

New Yorkers seem almost duty-bound to be loyal to the Giants and the Jets but, to me, those are New Jersey teams. "My" team is the New England Patriots. I admire their style, for the most part, and have enjoyed watching them kick butt on the field for the past couple of years.

Little did I know that this year, as the Patriots head to the SuperBowl to tackle New York's Giants early next month, there would be another quality to endear me to the Patriots. One of their newer players, Kelley Washington, acquired from the Cincinnati Bengals, does a touchdown dance called "The Squirrel."

You may (or may not) remember the squirrel who graced Yankee Stadium last year, and who antics found their way into the media and a couple of my posts here on this blog. I dislike baseball intensely but this Yankee squirrel actually added some real interest in the game, albeit temporarily. This squirrel did not dance, but he sure showed style sitting atop a pole on the playing field.

Now we have the football "Squirrel" - a lively victory dance Washington made up and then made famous while still playing in Ohio. The Patriots have scored quite a few touchdowns this year but Washington has kept his dance squirreled away.

Here's hoping we see some fancy footwork next month in the end zone by Washington's teammates. I'd sure love for the Arizona game to become a victorious "Squirrel Bowl."

Happy Squirrel Appreciation Day

It's the eve of Squirrel Appreciation Day, and there are many fine and appropriate ways to observe this holiday:

Have you hung up your stockings by the fireplace, ready to receive nuts at the stroke of midnight? Are you warming up your voice for the warbling of Squirrel Appreciation Carols? ("Deck the trees with lots of walnuts, qua-qua-qua-qua-qua.....qua-qua-qua-qua...
Tis the season we go all nuts.....qua-qua-qua-qua-qua.....qua-qua-qua-qua......
Don we now our Gray apparel.....")

Oops. Wrong holiday.
OK, maybe we're supposed to go hunting for multi-colored nuts that have been buried in the shrubs, singing "Here comes Peter Bushytail, Hopping Down the Squirrel Trail....."

Nope. Wrong again.

Shall we dress up, then, costumed as squirrels, knocking on people's doors asking for treats? Forget that. The squirrels already cornered that market, doing it 365 days a year, no holiday needed.

Should we set off fireworks? Fly our flags? Maybe hold a gigantic sale on bed linens, towels and other household items at all major department stores?

Here in the States, a lot of folks are already celebrating one federal holiday on Jan. 21, honoring slain civil rights leader, Martin Luther King Jr. But yes, it is also Squirrel Appreciation Day, and it's OK to recognize both holidays - though I doubt I'll get a day off from work just to stay home and feed the squirrels if I publicly declare myself as one of the faithful.

So how shall we celebrate? Well if you already appreciate squirrels, keep up the good work and tell others about the value of these wonderful woodland architects. Adopt a squirrel at a local wildlife rehab center - or at the Best Friends Sanctuary, to which I've posted a link above.

And if you don't believe in squirrels (or Santa Claus, for that matter), try for today to keep an open mind- for the former, if not the latter, and while you're at it, keep an open bag of nuts handy, at least for today.

Hey, you never know when a pleasant encounter with a squirrel can change your life.

Where does a 1-ton squirrel sit?

(Answer: Anywhere he wants!!)

OK, admit it: Most of us have befriended some hefty big-butt buddies in the parks or our own backyards and paid homage to their bottomless squirrel appetites by tossing enough nuts their way to bring on a case of repetitive stress injury. These squirrels are the Mack Trucks of the trees, 18-wheelers among the arboreals, and their healthy heft has left me no alternative to buy in bulk so that I may continue to contribute towards their bulk.

So I am not surprised at hearing that researchers in South America have turned up the fossilized remains of a 1.5-ton rodent that lived 4 million years ago. Is a rodent the size of a Brahma bull supposed to be shocking?

Those of us enslaved by the daily rituals of pitching pecans and hurling hazelnuts know better. Inside the body of every one of these 1,000-gram cuties is a 1-ton ancestor screaming to get out. I dare anyone to tell me that the guy who hangs out regularly on the ledge outside our front door, gazing in through the bay window, doesn't have designs on our sofa - as well as the walnuts in a dish a few feet away. I'm surprised he hasn't found the doorbell yet.

Rodents have thrived for millions of years because, let's face it, they're clever. I figure it's only a matter of time before I come into the living room and find one of them snacking while seated on the loveseat, the TV tuned to "Animal Planet."

Millions of years later, they still know how to throw their weight around.

Squirrel power (well, sort of)

The death of a single East Texas squirrel was broadcast far and wide this week, but it was less a sentimental obituary for a solitary rodent than a big news item.

Before he or she died, the squirrel had curtailed water service, shut off electricity, and forced the closing of schools in two area districts.

In all, more than a thousand utility customers were affected. The squirrel, sorry to say, got into a power substation in Big Sandy, about 100 miles east of Dallas, and did what rodents do: gnawed on the lines, a fatal mistake.

KLTV in Tyler, KWTX in Waco, KRIS in Corpus Christi and KXXV in Waco all told this story.

The media carries these items regularly, only the datelines change. In November of last year, the story played out in Ashland, Wisconsin, where two squirrels were killed along with the power. And Christmas morning was darkened in Chico, Calif., by yet another squirrel. Last month, it was Kennebunk, Maine.

One would think the utility companies might have caught on by now. If they don't care to avoid squirrel electrocutions (and presumably they don't) they might want to consider squirrel-proofing their facilities and even some of their power lines anyway. I am told there are actually such devices as "squirrel guards." Yes, it's a humane gesture and probably an expensive one at that, at least to outfit a good chunk of a power system, but on the up side of the equation, it would certainly help keep the lights on more often, thus bring a steadier and happier glow to their customers.

Yes and to us squirrel-lovers too.

A post I'd rather not be writing

By the time I got home from work last night, by midnight, the squirrel was dead.

I know I wasn't terribly hopeful to begin with, seeing how he had begun circling a bit in his bedding, sporadically arching his back and having his limbs rigor. But I had hoped these neurologic signs would begin to fade as some of the medicine began working.

I suppose I'll always have hope, even a little. That's why I take squirrels in for care in the first place.

But this was a handsome young squirrel, and this kind of outcome is never going to be easier for me.

Caution: squirrel crossing

Art imitates life, I suppose, but not often enough. When I blogged earlier this week about the new Monroe automotive parts ad campaign, I noted the episode had a happy ending - a young squirrel trying to cross a busy street is spared fatal contact with traffic.

The young male squirrel who is lying on his side tonight, twitching in a pet carrier in our spare bathroom downstairs, was not so lucky as the one in the ad. The little fellow is my first wildlife emergency call of the new year, and his rescuer, a worker for the local telephone company, Verizon, saw him get hit by the car - and then bounce. He somehow managed to get the squirrel out of harm's way before a second vehicle could come and finish him off.

"I couldn't leave him there," he told me when he phoned shortly after 10 this morning, asking me to help. "He would have been killed."

So now he is home with us. Will he make it? I wish I could say. He has been given some fluids and an analgesic that is also an anti-inflammatory, on advice of the vet. No bones are apparently broken and I have seen no bleeding. But he has pushed himself in small circles, on occasion, seeming to indicate some neurologic damage.

Like Miss Daisy before him, who arrived flat and unconscious on our driveway mysteriously in October, he will get the best care and attention I can offer in my limited way as a licensed volunteer caretaker. Beyond that, his fate is beyond me.

As the Monroe ad campaign notes, "Squirrels make bad decisions." Surely, this fellow did.

The Verizon technician who rescued him clearly wanted him to live.

So do I. So do I.

Strutting their struts, and their shocks

"Save the Squirrels" is the name of a new ad campaign for Monroe Shocks and Struts now playing on the Web, featuring short dramas that make this point: "Squirrels Make Bad Decisions." (And squirrels do, of course, as we know, when it comes to turning some folks' attics into their nests, or when crossing certain roads.) It's at Save the Squirrels.

This clever campaign, devised by the Milwaukee ad agency Cramer-Krasselt, pokes gentle fun at the road-crossing scenario, utilizing squirrel figurines as the players in the drama. In the first one to be released (called "Acceptance") an adolescent squirrel is nearly killed by a passing vehicle as he runs, in a rush of proud exuberance, into the street to show his parents he just got accepted into college. (The prestigious Acorn State, no less.)

A car is bearing down but, thankfully, the driver hits the brakes - and not the squirrel. His bright academic future is assured.

So, I think, is public good will toward Monroe. The company, a well-known auto parts maker, has achieved just the right mix of sweet humor and respect for animals to pull off an otherwise difficult sales pitch. Bravo to Monroe, and to the creative spirits at Cramer-Krasselt.

A sobering reaction

What driver among us hasn't swerved to avoid (or at least try to avoid) hitting a squirrel?

A news report from Wales (cut and pasted below) tells of such an incident, which left the young motorist trapped in her vehicle after it rolled over. The driver was also drunk, apparently, as police tests later disclosed.

What I find interesting here is that she wasn't so bombed that she became unable to react to the animal's presence and thus save its life. Perhaps, if anything, her inebriation caused her to over-correct her momentary detour, thus nearly costing her own life instead.

Driving is a matter of difficult judgment calls. It's wise to try and avoid hitting anything - a person, certainly, and an animal, absolutely. But reactions to such living obstacles require the kind of agility that doesn't imperil the driver, in tradeoff.

All the more reason to never drink and drive. You never know who else is sharing the road. And you want to make it home alive, regardless.

Here is the story in its entirety as it appeared on the Web site, ICWALES

by Wayne Nowaczyk, Rhondda Leader

A WOMAN who swerved to avoid a squirrel, ended up rolling her car and becoming trapped, Pontypridd Magistrates Court heard.

Fire officers had to free Jessica Perry, aged 20, of Ely Street, Tonypandy.

She was breathalysed some hours later in hospital and was found to be twice the drink-drive limit.

Perry pleaded guilty to driving her Renault Clio on August 15 with 160mgs of alcohol in her blood. The legal limit is 80.

She also admitted driving without due care and attention.

Dave Pugh, prosecuting, said that the accident took place at about 1.15am near the Coed Ely roundabout on the road leading to Talbot Green.

She lost control and went up an embankment. Every panel on the car was damaged including the roof which suggests the car may have rolled over.

When the emergency services arrived, Perry was trapped in the car and she had to be freed by firemen.

She gave the blood sample for analysis at 5.10am – four hours after the accident.

Neil Foley, defending, said that Perry swerved to avoid a squirrel which was running across the road and that’s how she lost control.

But he said that she accepted that the accident was probably caused because of the alcohol in her body.

District judge Vivian Manning-Davies said he was very concerned as the defendant was only 20 and could easily have killed herself.

“This is an alarmingly serious case for a young woman of just 20,” he said.

“I expect your parents to be as concerned as I am. I have a daughter not much older than you. I need a full picture of you and the only way to get that is for a full report to be carried out.”

He adjourned the case until January 23 for pre-sentence reports to be made.

2008, a tough nut to crack?

You've got to love a city that, at least in the eyes and hearts of squirrels, knows how to do New Year's Eve right. In Raleigh, N.C. ("the city of oaks") they drop a Big Acorn - not a Times Square ball.

To squirrels this is merely the most routine of acts. After all, they drop acorns from trees every day - at least during the fall - and many of us have had the questionable thrill of being beaned on the head by one or more of these very identifiable flying objects. The comic strip, "Mutts," even features squirrels engaged regularly in target practice on tops of unsuspecting fellow critters' heads.

Perhaps in some parts of the U.S., where red squirrels predominate, New Year's celebrants might consider dropping a pinecone instead. And prairie dogs, cousins of the arboreal and terrestrial squirrels, could inspire the ceremonial descent of dandelion greens or bales of tall grass. Hardly dramatic or speedy but it sure would make a pretty sight.

While we're at it, let's retire Dick Clark and some of those other celebs who've made their names in Times Square and get ourselves a master of ceremonies more befitting the theme of all this acorn-heaving - Punxsutawney Phil is still asleep (and he has his own holiday) so New Year's wouldn't necessarily be the groundhog's calling but perhaps the networks can woo Tufty the squirrel, American squirrels' UK cousin, or even the cartoon world's Rocky the flying squirrel? Or maybe one of the squirrels from that infamous GEICO insurance commercial?

The theme of it all? "Let's go nuts for New Year's"

It's something to think about. It would certainly give the squirrels of this country something to chatter about.