by admin | January 7, 2016 6:47 pm
The war against squirrels has again erupted in our backyard.
We hung a new bird feeder in the backyard and another on the side deck. Both are easily visible from the kitchen and breakfast room. They provide a simple pleasure as birds ranging in size from a redbird and a woodpecker down to tiny wrens come to feast. The one in the backyard is the type that contains a cake of seed inside a rectangular cage. It hangs from an ornamental iron stand. I bought a plastic half dome that is supposed to stop squirrels from getting to the seed, since they slide off the dome as it tips.
I have battled squirrels for eight years at two different houses here. So far, the squirrels are winning. No surprise there. As my next-door neighbor at the previous house put it, squirrels do not have jobs. They can devote themselves full-time to raiding bird feeders.
The squirrels ought to be gathering acorns, preparing for those January freezes. I figure the ridiculously balmy Christmas temperatures have lessened the sense of urgency among the tree rats. They are content attempting to raid the bird feeder, causing a mess in the process.
I decided to bring out some firepower — my bb rifle. Before animal lovers (of which I am one) get riled up, I did not intend to actually shoot a squirrel. That would just maim him unless I was extremely lucky, and that is cruel. I really dislike the destruction squirrels can wreak on attic wiring and such, but still. I was just trying to scare this one fat tree rat in particular off the feeder by plinking into a nearby tarnished weathervane. I am a lousy shot, so the squirrel was at some risk of being accidentally hit. He wasn’t. Every time a bb hit the metal rooster that swings around in the wind (sort of) it made a loud clang, and the squirrel took off. And then, when he thought the coast was clear, back up the pole he climbed. He would jump from the pole to the cage, hanging on upside down and chowing down on food meant for cute birds — not fat squirrels.
Hmmm. A scientific approach was needed. I do not have time to stand sentry every afternoon keeping a squirrel from hanging on the bird feeder. I still have to make a living. I headed into the shop and began surveying the array of chemicals, spray cans, herbicides, etc. that constitute homeownership. What would repel squirrels without hurting them?
WD-40. Next to duct tape, it is one of the most useful inventions of the 20th century. By the way, one of the interesting tidbits I learned in my brief, unsuccessful career as a home inspector is that the one place you cannot use duct tape and stay in code is on — wait for it — ducts! You have to use foil tape to join ducts. Anyway, I had briefly considered various ways of using duct tape — sticky side out, maybe — and discarded them. I didn’t want a squirrel to get stuck to the pole and me have to knock it off with a broomstick. But WD-40? This could work.
I sprayed a lavish layer of the stuff on the pole so it glistened in the late winter sun. And I went back to working at the computer, getting up every 15 minutes or so to check the feeder. No squirrels were in sight. I declared “Mission Accomplished!”
Like another more famous fellow who prematurely proclaimed such, I was wrong. Three days later I came home for lunch to find that fat squirrel again hanging from the cage. He took off as soon as I opened the back door. I grabbed the can of WD-40 and applied a new coat.
Two days later, so far so good. This could get expensive, between the birdseed cake and cans of WD-40. I thought about hooking a mild electrical charge to the pole, but again I am fearful of frying a squirrel. I ate fried squirrel once. I don’t recommend it. When somebody tries to persuade you to eat an animal not found in the meat department at Kroger by telling you it tastes “just like chicken,” go buy some chicken.
I just wish the squirrels would stick to acorns. We have a bumper crop this year.
The battle continues.
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