My husband and I, we used to like squirrels. A lot.
Having grown up in the city, I was thrilled when, at our old house, we would see the occasional squirrel either jumping on or running across our fence or running up our neighbor’s tree.
They were so cute. And when they would eat little nuts with their little paws, they were even cuter.
My husband doesn’t think they’re so cute anymore.
It all began when we decided to get some seed and fill up the bird feeders that the former owner of our home had left for us. Some feeders are shaped like bird houses; some are those long tubes with the tiny stands on the sides for the birds to perch.
We couldn’t wait to fill up the feeders, then sit on the porch and watch the birds eat.
This worked for a while. We saw cardinals and blue jays, chickadees and even morning doves that would eat seed off the ground.
Our feeders became the hotspot of the neighborhood. Tons of birds were coming from all over (at least that’s what we’d like to think) to take a taste of our fresh seeds.
But then the squirrels found out.
Squirrels, as we’ve discovered, are not the cutie patooties they pretend to be.
In fact, when it comes to going for the seeds, they are like the bullies of the woods.
After finding out about the seeds, the squirrels, well, they just moved in and took over the territory. Just their presence scared the heck out of the birds. So they flew away.
Then, the squirrels, whose mouths must be able to expand to hold the equivalent of a side of beef, began to stuff all the seeds into their cheeks.
This made my husband, uh, just a bit angry.
Actually, it made him really angry.
And if you knew my husband, you would know that it takes a lot to make the man angry. But like Bill Bixby used to say when he played David Banner in The Incredible Hulk, “Don’t make me angry. You wouldn’t like me when I’m angry.”
My husband first saw a squirrel on top of one of the bird houses. Just sitting there, eating.
When he went out the next day, all the seed was gone.
He was not happy.
The next incident occurred when we were sitting on the front porch trying to decompress from our day.
Suddenly, he jumps up and starts yelling, “Hey! Hey! Get away from there! Don’t you dare…”
Then my husband is up out of his chair and sprinting across the yard.
Since I have no idea what’s going on at this point, I assume that he has lost his mind.
Then I realized that he was chasing the squirrels.
Yes, it’s come to this: My grown husband is running and waving his arms and yelling at an eight-inch tall member of the rodent family.
That time it worked. The squirrel, who looked like he was about to have a heart attack, ran all the way up the tree.
Just in case he hadn’t gotten his point across, my husband stood at the bottom of the tree, looking up and yelling.
He’s starting to become obsessed.
He’s been talking about wanting to get some feeders with the squirrel-resistant bottoms. Then he’s talked about getting something that shocks the squirrels (that is so not happening).
He also talks a lot about this feeder that, when squirrels jump on, spins around so that they fly off the sides.
When he talks about this one, he laughs a bit maniacally.
I fear that my husband’s war with the squirrels has made him just a bit nuts.