This started out as trying to keep them away from my birdfeeder. But it became its own reward.
I sawed through a loaf of hard-as-a-rock whole wheat/multigrain/multiseed Costco bread this morning–so healthy I for one can’t eat it and one certainly couldn’t in time in the quantities they sell it in–and I put it out by the trees with some old almond butter spread on. The almond butter, being past its expiry date but having been kept in the fridge, was still good but had more value as entertainment factor by now, I figured, since the peanut butter purists here weren’t eating it.
Then I watched to see what would happen.
One little black squirrel discovered it right away and was in total heaven. He ran up a tree to savor a big piece alone, and then from up there munching away, clearly decided he didn’t want that bossy big gray male who was always giving him what-for to know where the loot was before it could be stashed away.
That gray got a whiff, though. He smelled it. He left the porch he likes to dominate, the birdfeeder territory, and started looking for it. Where was it? He’d been so busy he’d missed out. He actually licked the tree trunk where the black squirrel had first stopped to eat, then sniffed some more, frantically looking for any trace of almond.
Then he spotted the little guy just finishing his bite. YOU! Over there! GIMME THAT! He went chasing, bounding from treetop to treetop, both of them doing daredevil leaps that had me holding my breath. Run for it! Over and over, around and around, back down to the ground now–and every time they got too close to where the rest of those pieces of bread were, the black one did the most masterful job of using the gray’s bossy instincts to divert him and led him along in his pell-mell chase away from the stash. Every time the gray got too close. Every time. The black one would risk getting caught–almost–so that the stash wouldn’t be. Neener neener, can’t catch me!
The race was to the young and finally the bigger and older gray gave up. Never did get any. It was funny as all get-out to watch the little young one outfox him and then see it sneak back and squirrel away the rest.
I decided to take pity awhile later and put out some more pieces of that bread, but too lazy to mix more of the separated almond and oil back together. I put the plain tidbits out again at the base of that same tree–and this time the big gray found it.
And that little turkey turned to me, back inside behind the window, with a look that could only be described as You have GOT to be kidding me!!! No *almond*?!!
And the cheeky little thing turned its nose up like a cat at dinnertime.
He did come back later and grabbed one when he thought I wasn’t looking.
You know which one’s getting seconds tomorrow. And you know what’s going to be on it. Let the Wild Rumpus Begin Again!