Nature Note #192: Snacking and Entering

Grey squirrel, but not T.S.

We share our homes and neighbourhoods with a plethora of wildlife. Deer frolic through our yards, while chickadees and titmice visit our feeders in search of a quick snack. Ants and spiders crawl under the walls of our homes, occasionally appearing to quickly dash between the cabinets in search of food. Even our pets aren't immune. Leave any of their food alone outdoors and you're sure to be visited by opossums, skunks, and woodchucks, all looking to gain access to an easy meal.

While these creatures often appear in the yard, they seem to keep their distance. That is unless you've been feeding them in which case you should definitely stop. Seriously, the last thing you need is a mass of animals expecting food from you every time you appear at the door. At best, it's mildly annoying to be pestered by a deer who wants some more of those apple slices that it usually gets when you leave your house. At worst, you might be creating a ground zero for a wildlife epidemic both in terms of spreading disease and overcrowding in a single area.

This can certainly become a problem with animals like deer, pigeons, and cockroaches, but one creature in particular is especially skilled at outwitting humans into getting what they want. I am, of course, talking about squirrels. Specifically, grey squirrels (Sciurus carolinensis). Everyone has their own story about how one of these busy tailed rodents weaseled (or perhaps rodented?) their way into our homes and hearths for warmth, food, or even out of curiosity. It would seem that the squirrels that live in the roof of our Marcellus apartment were in it for all three especially for one squirrel in particular.

Trash Squirrel (T.S. for short) came into my life unexpectedly after I rescued it from the dumpster out back of the apartment. It was duskier than the others, wilier and possessive of a spirit of determined curiosity that always seemed to get it into trouble. One summer afternoon, my girlfriend and I came home to find a partially chewed apple on our windowsill. After initially blaming one another for leaving the unfinished fruit, we puzzled over who or even what could have left it there. A few hours later after running some errands, we had our answer.

Scrabbling on the inside of our closed window was a dusky, dirty squirrel with an apparent air of desperate curiosity as to why it could no longer access its juicy prize. After a few seconds, it hit us that the frugivorous mammal had nibbled a hole in our screen to access the apple. What was more shocking was where the apple must have come from into order for it to have gotten it. The only apples available were the ones on our kitchen table on the other side of the wall or in my girlfriend's lunch bag; an impressive feat for a hungry squirrel. Our landlord was equally perplexed as he'd never encountered such an ambitious and risk-taking squirrel either.

T.S. hung around for part of the summer, needing to be rescued from the dumpster twice more, before disappearing sometime in the fall. Perhaps the risk-taking had gotten too out of hand, or maybe the acorns falling from the nearby oaks were a worthy distraction and easier to harvest than an apple on the other side of the glass. Either way, we gained an appreciation for the cleverness of our squirrely neighbours and in turn, learned to lock our windows whenever we go out. Hopefully the next tenants won't have to worry too much about our little friend pestering them this coming spring. I would urge them however, to be vigilant as we don't yet know if it has passed on its apple-thieving ways to any of its neighbours. Only time will tell.