Object constancy: something squirrels don’t have before adulthood.

The older squirrels knew I leave them alone if they leave the awning pole next to the birdfeeder alone, and besides, there’s nothing there worth investigating.  Safflower seeds–they won’t even bury those.

The little guy thought that if he couldn’t see me, I couldn’t see him, and so he hid on the far side of the pole so that I no longer existed. With four little gray feet clutching tight around the two corners. I could have painted his toenails.

It is amazing how far those things can jump when you say boo from two feet away. There was an explosion of gray fur and tail straight up and then (oh oops, I’m sorry) straight down as I took a step back, then sprinting away from me (oh good, he’s not hurt.)

That was yesterday, and though the little gray squirrel with the distinctive off-center brown smudge spot on his nose came back today, he behaved like all the others now. Sniffing around through whatever seeds got kicked out by the chickadees, not bothering the feeder, wishing I would finally, finally put something tastier out there.

I do actually have a peanut butter jar that needs cleaning out if I wanted to encourage them. Hmm.