Girls just wanna have...fun?

Every high school class had at least one - the girl who'd go with any guy, the one whose reputation won her a kind of red letter emblazoned across her chest (or any other equally active body part).

Now, it seems, almost every tree in the United Kingdom has one too: A red squirrel for whom The Mating Game constitutes a second career, if not an obsession, second only to the gathering and cracking of nuts.


The truth can finally be told: Female red squirrels in Britain are sluts. Bad girls. Bushytailed hos. Researchers at the University of Guelph in Toronto are making big news as the academic peeping Toms who have successfully charted the drey-hopping ways of these frisky hot mommas.

It all comes down to opportunity, big opportunity, on the single day in the breeding season when the female reds come into season. They don't just wanna have fun, they wanna have a healthy litter and the more they shop around where the sample is ample, the more likely they are to achieve their goal.

"We found the more males in the area interested in participating in the mating chase, the more squirrels she will mate with," Guelph researcher Eryn McFarlane is quoted as saying in a variety of published accounts of this report.

So the likelihood is eventually that most red squirrel females will indeed find their Mr. Right. They can't go wrong. After all, a tree is not just a tree anymore: It's a singles bar.

One squirrel's misplaced leap

No squirrel is likely to argue with this: If you're already out on a limb and looking to jump, don't leap until you're certain the next branch will hold you.

So it was with the blog post of April 9 for "Grey and Red, A Squirrel Journal." Out on a limb is precisely the spot where we were when we sat down to declare the Prince of Wales, Prince Charles himself, as a man for all squirrels. The praise here practically constituted a coronation.

It might have paid to look a bit further. The branch to which we were leaping was not quite right. Charles is a man for red squirrels - all red squirrels, the beloved natives of his land - but God save the greys. In Charles' eyes the interloper greys are persona (or rodenta) non grata, as fellow blogger, the aptly named Lone Grey Squirrel, wasted no time in pointing out.

In a June 9, 2009 post on his own blog, Realm of the Lone Grey Squirrel, he takes Charles to task, and rightly so. The prince, it seems, has shown neither decency nor humanity in dealing with the greys brought to the UK from overseas.

In short, Charles wants them exterminated simply for the crime of living and breathing on British soil, a land they did not migrate to of their own accord. In likening Charles' not-so-modest proposal to ethnic cleansing, my colleague Lone Grey Squirrel is right on point.

History has long recorded royalty's desire to wage blood-soaked wars to protect a nation from invaders, but these are not savage warriors possessed of bushy tails and spears. The eastern gray squirrel is a victim too.

Shame on the royal family for showing no compassion for the displaced. Shame on Charles for his declaration of war in 2009. It is a fine attribute to care for and protect one's own, but an even higher calling to help those living in a strange land, with nowhere to hide.

A prince of a guy

Can it be that the Prince of Wales is really the Prince of Squirrels?

It's no secret that Prince Charles is an open advocate of the imperiled native red squirrel, and he has referred to the tiny rodent as "this precious little animal," an argument it would be hard to challenge him on.


It is also no secret that he is a major player in the UK's Red Squirrel Survival Trust, which seeks to protect the nation's reds.

But the Prince obviously considers newspaper inquiries about his advocacy to be, well, something of a royal pain. A recent request by the Times newspaper in London, wanting to know more about Charles' lobbying on behalf of an ecologically (and squirrel-logically) friendly property developer was rebuffed by authorities, which called such information "a state secret."

Secret Squirrel, anyone?

Though love of squirrels should never be classified information, when love and politics mix, the rules apparently change - at least in government's eyes.

Freedom of the press is, of course, as precious as the freedom of squirrels to dance in the trees, so let's hope members of the press and members of government can sort this one out.

In the meantime, it is good to know that the Prince holds the native red squirrels dear, and that in the kingdom of his heart, they are truly the reigning species. If only they could learn to share with the greys, what a peaceable kingdom it might be.

Not amused

At first, when the news story about Britain's amusement park squirrel went viral, it seemed a clear-cut case of "Squirrels Just Wanna Have Fun." After all, a squirrel determined to hitch a ride on a roller-coaster seems like a natural contender for News of the Odd.

Except when you look at the photos, and look harder at the situation, it isn't quite so funny.

Squirrels are nature's own athletes, and every branch is their roller coaster, every shrub their bumper-car ride, every birdfeeder or high wire their amusement-park adventure.

That said, squirrels need humans' roller-coasters like squirrels need humans: They don't. Not unless they are very ill or injured. And if you look at any photos of this squirrel, Sonic (as this unfortunate creature was nicknamed) does not appear to be a particularly healthy eastern grey. His eyes are sunken and his fur lacks a healthy sheen. If he was stealing food from workers at the park, as reports indicated, you can also be sure this is a young squirrel starved for food, and likely seeking attention as much as handouts.

"Alton Towers Bans Daredevil Squirrel from Roller Coaster Ride," screams the headline above the article in The Mail. "Squirrel Banned from Riding Rollercoaster," is the spin given in the Telegraph. This is the same British theme park that features a ride called Squirrel Nutty, in which thrill-seekers ride along an elevated rail in a small car shaped like an acorn. This little squirrel, however, chose to make his appearance on the Sonic Spinball.

All those news reports were supposed to be cute but while everyone was busy making light of the situation, no one really looked hard enough to see what was really going on. Young wild animals such as this one do not come this close to humans unless there's a reason. And it's not a happy one. Certainly not a funny one.

It is several days since these articles first appeared online and in print.
I have to wonder if Sonic is even still alive.
I wish more people had been on the lookout for the animal's welfare instead of just a good laugh.

Victory, just for being squirrels

Sometimes the squirrels win.
Sometimes they don't.

The national football team of the African republic of Benin, The Squirrels ("Les Ecureuils") met with an unfortunate defeat today on the playing field where they were pitted against the Super Eagles of Nigeria.

I will resist the urge to state the obvious: that even in nature, squirrels rarely have a chance in any competition against eagles. Those sharp-eyed, high-flying birds are natural predators, and their talons are formidable weapons. There are no rules of sportsmanship here; only laws of survival of the fittest and swiftest.

Still, in this heated battle of the Orange Africa Nations Cup, it would have been heartening to see the pride of Benin give local sports fans something to chatter about. Instead, Nigeria's Eagles flew to victory.

In the United Kingdom, however, squirrels gained more than just a few points on the scoreboard about a week ago: A study by the British Trust for Ornithology revealed that, despite popular fears, the presence of the non-native eastern grey squirrel in Britain has had little or no impact (and certainly minimal negative impact) on that nation's 38 or so native avian species.

In this particular duel between avians and squirrels, it appears the squirrels have energed vindicated, if not altogether victorious.

Squirrel fans are cheering this quieter, less publicized triumph for the eastern grey squirrels in the UK. The squirrels are unwelcome strangers in a strange land where they have been targeted as a vector for the deadly squirrel pox, and for driving the beloved, native reds out of their home territories.

We all needed this good news, and so did the squirrels.
Although the Squirrels of Benin missed their chance today, the eastern greys of Britain can, for now, still carry the ball.

Feeding the squirrels, or feeding ON them?

The subject just won't go away.

A new New York Times story reports once again on a resurgence in the British proposal to eradicate grey squirrels - the acknowledged nemesis of the native reds - by eating them. This notion has been circulating for quite some time, has given butcher shops in the UK a renewed entrepreneurial spirit, and has challenged chefs who possess a desire to appear both creative and patriotic.

What a world. Imagine if we all sought, similarly, to conquer our various enemies by eating them.

Labor union leaders would publish cookbooks containing varieties of souffles one might whip up using recalcitrant CEOs and vicious vice presidents as the main ingredients.

Assembly line workers would hold morale-raising barbecues, with the sole purpose of skewering, marinating and roasting the shop foremen.

The stomach, formerly known only as an organ of sustenance for the body, would now become a sociopolitical battleground. Who could have predicted such a fate for this simple part of our anatomy?

Squirrels of Britain beware: The hand that feeds you all those nuts so lovingly and generously today may simply be seeking to fatten you up for tomorrow - for supper.

A hair-raising squirrel story

Listed among those famous folks, who are most famous for being bald: Telly Savalas, Daddy Warbucks, Persis Khambatta, Alfred Hitchcock, Sinead O'Connor (briefly, Britney Spears), Mister PotatoHead and yes, even Humpty Dumpty (ever seen a soft-boiled egg with an updo or hightop fade?)

And now: Smoothie the squirrel.

This beautiful male's appearance at St Tiggywinkles Wildlife Hospital in Britain has been hair-raising because he showed up as the apparent victim of hair-razing -- as in, bald with only a few wisps on his tail. And though the customary conclusion in such cases is that the squirrel was shorn by mites that accompany mange, this apparently doesn't seem to be the case for Smoothie.
He is handsome anyway, with a good appetite and presumably, a pretty good attitude.

But getting to the root (or at least the follicle) behind his condition may take some digging, if not some splitting hairs altogether.

We will be watching his case and hoping things turn around for him soon. There is no "Hair Club for Squirrels" and rodent toupees are not the fashion either. At least the weather is warm enough so he's not at risk for frostbite. But let's all wish the good folks in the UK some good fortune to help our friend Smoothie get his coat back in time for fall fashion and nut burying season.

No appetite for this solution

It says an awful lot about our species, when you consider the way we humans sometimes approach problem-solving: If all else fails, we make the problem go away by eating it.

I used to think this was a uniquely American trait - seeing how many people in the U.S. could easily swap out their stomachs for trash-mashers with little discernible difference - but now I am not so sure our nation has exclusive rights to this kind of bad taste.Here in the States we are in the midst of horse-racing season, and the nation is still reeling from a tragedy on the racetrack immediately following the Kentucky Derby, when the lone filly to run (she finished second!!) sustained a fatal injury and was euthanized on site.

So I was horrified to learn of an even worse fate visited upon a first-place Derby winner back in 1986, a big brown horse named Ferdinand, who was ridden to victory by the legendary American jockey Willie Shoemaker. Ferdinand did not experience similar glory as a stud, and he was something of a failure in Japan too, where his American owners shipped him eventually, for a second try at procreation.
Ferdinand posed a problem - he was now too old to race and he did not produce a new bloodline of future champions. So he was taken to the slaughterhouse in Japan and converted into something edible. And that is how a Derby winner, and the 1987 Horse of the Year, met his end.

I think of Ferdinand now as I read of one solution to Britain's unfortunate influx of aggressive eastern grey squirrels - a non-native species that never asked for such immigration status. They are, for the most part, reviled, hunted and killed because they displace the beloved native reds - and the latest solution is to serve them up on the dinner plate, energizing the local economy, bringing a boon to butcher shops and posing a fun challenge to creative home cooks as well.
I'll have none of that, thank you. It turns my stomach to think we humans, for all our cleverness, have chosen to think with our appetites instead of our minds. We are a sentient species and yet, for all of that, the best we can come up to solve various problems is to slaughter a champion horse (one of many to have met such a fate, I've been assured) and a challenge to creative cooks everywhere to fry up some squirrel.

The worse tragedy here, I fear, is that people really believe this is the best we can do. I'd like to think we as a species can do better. At least I hope and pray we can.

A tree expresses its "inner squirrel"

Squirrels and chainsaws are not usually a happy pairing. Oftentimes someone takes a chainsaw to a tree, and a squirrel is left homeless or worse - a nesting family is dislodged, a mother squirrel displaced or injured and likewise, the babies injured or killed.

So this happy story, about a carver in the UK, a chainsaw-wielding maestro, if you will, is a heartening bit of reality from the Hereford Times:

http://www.herefordtimes.com/news/3130167.At_the_cutting_edge/

I like the fact that Harry Thomas can whip out his chainsaw and have squirrels appear, instead of disappear. And I like the fact that he creates his squirrel sculptures out of wood (hopefully not displacing any squirrels who lived in the redwood trees from which he gets his raw material.)

Red squirrels carved out of redwood? It seems a natural pairing. Squirrels are arboreal, after all.

Now here in the States, maybe someone can follow Thomas' example and carve pine squirrels out of trees from the pine forest and black squirrels perhaps from the wood of the black maple.

Ah, but the real challenge is this: What do you create a chipmunk from? WOOD CHIPS??

The sacred squirrels of India

There is a beautiful story told in Indian mythology about brave and industrious little squirrels who mustered courage and strength to help build a bridge across the sea to save a king's beloved wife, who had been kidnapped by a monster.

Though monkeys loyal to the king immediately set to work carrying formidable rocks, the tiny squirrels could only carry pebbles, and for this they were disdained and cast aside - with one squirrel hurled, nearly to his death by one angry monkey working among the bridge-builders.

The squirrel's life was more than spared, however. Rama caught the little squirrel before any harm could come to him. And then he - and all squirrels since that time - were given a blessing by Rama, signified by the three stripes across the back - the gentle fingers of Rama's hand leaving their indelible marks.
I first learned of this story from my friend Arul, who was born in India and is there now on a fellowship, reacquainting himself with these sacred squirrels. They visit his apartment terrace, much to his delight (and theirs!) And I was reminded again of this story by fellow blogger Vineeth Sukumaran, who sent me links on the Flickr website to the beautiful photos you see here, the descendants of the blessed palm squirrels.

How fortunate that there is a place in this world that reveres these beautiful, intelligent animals - and protects them from harm.

I wish the western part of the United States could feel the same way about the squirrels' cousins, the prairie dogs, who are being poisoned and gassed daily. And I wish the United Kingdom could also rethink the way it is dealing with an admittedly problematic overpopulation of introduced greys.

I think we need more myths, and more realities born of such fine myths, to build a bridge of understanding between humans and animals often perceived as "pests" or "vermin." Perhaps can we can take our cue and our inspiration from the Indian striped squirrels, and help build that bridge ourselves, one strong pebble at a time.

Some Revolutionary ideas

Not since the American Colonies cast off the reins of the British king has there been such a troubling struggle between those who dwell on both sides of the Pond.

This time, however, it is being fought on the British side of the Atlantic. And like the revolutionary entanglement written into the history of humans, the battle between America's eastern gray (grey) squirrel and the beloved red squirrels of the United Kingdom has led to much sadness and death.

Simply put, the greys are driving the reds out of their natural dwellings - and the greys, an introduced species hostile to the native reds, are taking over. Sadder still, these American grey colonists in the UK did not ask to be an introduced species but, like so many other flora and fauna that show up on foreign shores with problematic results, they were transported here, have taken root and spread. At the same time, the reds' food is being eaten by the greys, and the now-weakened population of reds in some areas are being destroyed by an outbreak of a particularly strong squirrel pox.

In Scotland, a census is taken to keep count of the beloved reds. Elsewhere in the UK preservationist efforts have sprung up to keep the red viable. Being sympathetic to the plights on both our shores, I have made contributions toward red squirrel preservation through the symbolic adoption of a red squirrel in the UK (I received a photograph of "Hazel," my adoptee, and I encourage others to contribute to this worthy cause, the Wildlife Trust, which looks after the squirrels on Brownsea Island).

The greys, meanwhile, are poisoned, shot and declared a menace. Here in the States there is only a government-proclaimed short season of "squirrel hunting" (although in my mind anything longer than a millisecond is too long a season). But in the UK, it is open season on greys all the time for reasons of preserving the native reds. Indeed, wildlife rehabilitators who choose to care for orphaned and injured greys do so in defiance of the law and at their own peril. (And they do, bless their hearts, seeing the greys as twice victimized).

Recently there was even a culinary solution proposed - put grey squirrels on Britain's menus. I cannot imagine an Eastern Grey Takeaway restaurant, squirrels 'n chips or even bangers, mash and bushytail - but the food gurus of the United Kingdom were obviously trying a creative solution.

Like the American Revolution, this is a struggle for independence too - one nation's attempt to become independent of the eastern grey. But please remember, this American colonist never asked to be there and is truly a victim in this scenario too. These are beings as charming, sentient and full of life and personality as their British cousins.

There has to be a better way to solve this though. America, Britain - please keep trying, and let the means this time be nonviolent.

A post from London

http://digg.com/offbeat_news/Squirrel_Finds_New_BFF_very_cute_PIC

I found this lovely photo the other day on digg.com

Winter is getting closer with each day and everyone is putting on their winter coats - including the squirrels in the park near my home. It's also sunny, which is nice - but no sign of nutty sunglasses yet.

Squirrels from afar

Hello, finally, from the UK where I have grey squirrels in my garden and in the park behind my house.

What do they look like, and how do they compare to their US cousins? Well, I suppose I'd say they seem to be a bit smaller based on those I've seen in the US. But maybe the US ones just happened to be well fed couch potatoes, whereas the ones who visit my garden are desperate for food.

When I get a moment, I'll find and add some photos of them here.