The Line Forms Somewhere?

Yet another segment in the ongoing adventures in squirrel-land.  During the fall, I wander around the neighborhood and pick up acorns that have fallen from local trees.  I do this because my sister seems to enjoy feeding my squirrel family.  Truly, I have no idea why this family chose my spruce tree to live in, but here they are.  Fatso, of course, has been known to you for a while.  He was the first to arrive to sample the bounty.  We have been through the wobbly period which seems to have passed, as only one of the current residents is a little on the wobbly side.  Now, we are apparently preparing for a fairly hard winter, as there is a bit of a battle going on over who gets first dibs on the acorns.

One of our visitors is distinguishable by his split ear.  He is the wobbly one, so we think he has been through some rough times in squirrel land.  He generally is the first to arrive for his snack.  However, others are often lying in wait, unseen on the trellis or in the lilac tree, and will chase the split-ear old dude away.  We tend to want to make sure the old guy gets his share of our acorns, so when we see him, we open the deck door and scatter a few on the deck.  Hopefully, he will get a few before the horde arrives.  The problem is that each squirrel can only carry one acorn at a time to wherever the cache is.  So while the split-ear guy is sometimes able to grab the first acorn, he is not often able to get back for another before his “pals” jump in for a grab.

Anyway, today, here comes the old guy, who sits up with his front paws folded across his chest right in front of the deck door, looking quite cute and cuddly (for a rodent, anyway).  So we quietly opened the door and tossed a few acorns out for him.  He turned around to get one and WOW, here were two ambushers dropping down from their hiding places on the deck rail, and WHAM, poor old dude was shouldered aside while the young guys grabbed the gold.  Brought tears to my eyes, that did.

So what to do?  We thought about making a sign to place on the window about where the line forms and how queue etiquette works.  However, it is doubtful that squirrels can actually read, so that would probably not work.  Perhaps, we then thought, we could make a squirrel path from the deck rail in front of the lilac tree (their usual place of debarkation) lined with my beach rocks so they will know where the line actually is.  However,…well, not sure what the however is in this case.  It seems we will simply have to let nature take her course and let the young push the elders aside.  But, as an elder myself, that does not sit well.  More pondering is required.  Meantime, maybe I can find a way to REALLY quietly open the deck door when the wobbly old guy comes to the window.

The squirrel saga will undoubtedly continue.  Beats some other sagas I could write.


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