Squirrels, where?

The squirrel family would like to announce they have a new litter of teenagers moving out of the nest. Babies no more, these little munchkins romp and play and eat all day long in the Hagebush backyard, much to the chagrin of Lady, our border collie. 

So rowdy are these romping youngsters, it’s hard to count them, much less keep track of their antics. I’m not sure what she would do if she caught a squirrel, it would not be good, and highly unlikely as quick as these adolescents are. Often she stands below the pine tree, flecks of pine cone fluttering down, the smell of pine needles thick in the air, as the family dines on pine tree.

Yesterday I went outside to survey what the gopher family has been doing to our lawn (moving into bigger quarters, it would appear) and surprised one of the teenager squirrels as he was surveying our two birch trees. Instead of running up the fence or up the tree, he decided to freeze and “hide.” 

It was my hubby who pointed out that the squirrel was hanging onto the birch tree (not that big of one) and when I looked to see if he was behind the tree, he moved around so all I could see were his cute little paws and his twitching fluffy tail, gripping the white bark.

I stepped closer so I could see him better and with a loud chatter and bark he darted to the very top of the tree (almost roof level). The tree tipped dangerously from side to side as the outraged young rodent gave me his opinion. I don’t speak squirrel, but I think it was probably rather foul, judging from Lady’s reaction. Barking and stiff legged, she gave her opinion back and the squirrel darted halfway down the tree to hop onto the top of our redwood fence, also known as squirrel alley.

At the speed of squirrel, he ran wily nilly to the back of our property and up the pine tree, continuing a narrative of angry squirrelese. Lady barked and used her back legs to scratch and tear at the grass and dirt. The smell of dirt and grass filled the air and David and I laughed and laughed. I know, not nice to the poor, scared squirrel.

When Chris, our son, returned from school, I told him my squirrel story and he had a better one for me.

The squirrel has adopted our birch tree and enjoys hanging out in the tree, surveying his squirrel kingdom. The backyard kingdom that is, never noticing Chris’s open bedroom window. 

Chris was getting ready for school one morning and happened to look out his window to see the squirrel hanging out, busy tail twitching. Thinking it funny the squirrel hadn’t noticed him, Chris called cheerily to the squirrel, “Top of the morning, sir!” The startled rodent, bushy tail flying, took off down the tree and along the fence, chattering all the way.

I wonder if he’ll continue to stay in our birch tree or if he’ll find the pine tree a better, safer option. I know the gophers haven’t been disturbed by the ruckus, new mounds of dirt have appeared on the south side of the lawn. Rodents! We’re surrounded!

O'Neill ignored the squirrels and now look!

Squirrel Sheriff, on duty

Loki and I took a long walk today up to the picturesque Eugene O'Neill property, located high above he town of Danville. Once a thriving ranch, the O'Neills raised chickens and Eugene wrote some his famous plays here. The National Park Services now offer tours of the O'Neill's property, called the Tao house, and some of the grounds. Loki and I ventured up the path to see the burial site of "Blemie," the O'Neill's beloved Dalmation. Loki, with his long doggy tongue hanging in his goofy way, made sure to mark every bush he could and looked with interest at the cattle that mooed at us from the fence. He did not seem to care that Mr. O'Neill penned Blemie's Last Will and Testament, but he did note the squirrel hanging out near the smelly cow pasture and an old bathtub . . . maybe used to water the cows, now a thriving meeting place for the squirrel metropolis.

There are tours of the house itself, but Loki, not invited, being a dog and all, was not interested in the inside of the house. He preferred to scope out the abundance of rodents that seemed to dot the hillside like ants . . . they were everywhere you looked, some even brazen enough to dart right across Loki's path. Standing up and surveying the villages, no cities, they have created far and wide, the little brown creatures scurry about their rodent way. Things to do, burrows to dig . . . on the look out, always on call.

Really, do squirrels care about people signs?

Apparently the squirrels have multiplied so much they have invaded Mr. O'Neill's garden and have dug up some of his prized planters. I wondered why there would be so many squirrels in one place, don't the hawks and snakes eat some of them? I was also very amused by the sign, made of cardboard, that someone is using to block the bottom of the gate. It reads "Squirrel Barrier" and has been munched all along the bottom of the sign, probably by, you guessed it, a squirrel.

Front of the Tao House

I saw so many squirrels and ground squirrels that day I dreamed about them that night. The house was crawling with them, pathways and roads and the house itself caving in. I don't think I've ever seen that many rodents in one place . . . so I went home and did a search on the plays that Eugene O'Neill wrote and guess what? Not one was about a squirrel! Not even a mention of squirrels in any of them! I checked, I searched. Nada. Did the man know what would happen so soon after his death? The squirrel invasion is on! If only he'd written something about the little brown rodents, maybe they would not haunt his house! Perhaps instead of the Iceman Cometh, he could have penned, the Squirrels Cometh. Just saying.

Loki, certified in Squirrel Hunting

  

Loki would like to know if the Park Services needs any help . . . you know, in rounding the buggers up. He's available.