WAR OF THE SQUIRRELS

By some quirk of evolution the squirrel (family Sciuridae) developed a long, bushy tail. Indeed, they take their name from the Greek word skiouros, which means shadow-tailed. Had it not been for their tail, they would look like the rest of their disgusting rodent relatives. Upon siting a rat, people turn to traps, poison, or shot guns to exterminate the varment. Upon siting a squirrel, people run to get nuts to feed the cute little creatures.

I learned early about these sneaky vermin. As a little tyke, I would to go to Hamlin Park with my Grandma Szlavik to feed the squirrels. They were so tame they would take food from your hand. Then one of the nasty buggers bit my finger. Never again would I trust a squirrel. I did, however, have a toy squirrel that I had a safe relationship with. I brought it to Kindergarten one day for show-and- tell, and we sang, "Gray squirrel, gray squirrel, swish your tail for me. Wrinkle up your funny nose. Hold a nut between your toes. Gray squirrel, gray squirrel, swish your tail for me."

My Grandmother Kofink would occasionally feed squirrels windmill cookies. (That's no so strange since those cookies have almonds in them.) However, after the squirrels had eaten their fill, they took to digging holes in the lawn to burry the rest. That was the end of the cookies. To compensate for the absence of treats the squirrels started digging up the tulip bulbs. That was an act of pure vengeance because they would take one bite out of the bulb, discover they didn't like the taste, discard it, and dig up another one.

For 21 years my life was relatively squirrel free since I don't recall seeing any in Miami where I lived. Then I moved to Ocala and was reintroduced to the little monsters. Now in general I am a live and let live sort of person. There are plenty of oak trees around here, and the squirrels are welcome to eat all the acorns the can hold. They can even store them up for the six weeks of winterish season we have here. Now, the Good Lord intended squirrels to live in trees and not in the ceiling of the church's narthex, but the narthex is the place they want to live. Several times the have gnawed their way through wood and stucco to get into the ceiling and raise a litter of baby squirrels. We always close their access hole making sure the squirrels are out foraging. Once a squirrel went to its eternal reward while living in the ceiling which produced an infernal stench. (Almost as bad as the time a lizard died in the cup dispenser of the water cooler.)

Some time in late spring or early summer the squirrels chewed the Holland Tunnel of holes though the fascia and the wall to get back into the ceiling. I tried patching their entrance with wood several times, but the always pulled the patches off. I wouldn't have minded their new living quarters if they hadn't been so destructive. First they started tearing the insulation out of the ceiling, then they knocked down the recessed lights by pushing the fixtures out of the ceiling.

We explained the situation to our pest control people who promised to investigate how to repel squirrels. We're still waiting for the report. In the meantime I believe we have gone through one litter of squirrels. As winter approached, the Congregation Council decided the squirrels had to be evicted. We hired someone to close their entrance permanently with cement and put aluminum shielding across and possible future entry sites. It was done humanely, waiting for them to go our foraging before shutting them out. Mission accomplished. The ceiling is now squirrel free.

The pesky creatures were quite displeased at being denied access to their residence, but they were only squatters and not legal residents. For several days they banged on the metal siding trying to remove or destroy it without success. I came outside one day to have words with them, warning one of their number to leave the siding alone or there would be dire consequences. He or she looked at me with contempt.

I thought the war of the squirrels was over, but I was wrong. The Monday after Christmas I arrived at the church to find a string of the outdoors Christmas lights chewed into two-foot lengths and left lying on the ground. The squirrels had begun to bite off individual bulbs, but decided they had done enough damage for one day.

Some church members suggested we leave the lights on overnight to fry the vengeful little monsters next time they went after the lights. I was sorely tempted, but it would have done no good. I noticed every day that the string of lights was always unplugged from the extension cord. I knew no one from the church was unplugging the lights, but couldn't work out what phenomenon of nature was producing this effect. The answer was the squirrels. I saw one siting on the extension cord that ran underneath the roof of the covered walkway. The weight of the squirrel was just enough to pull the cord free of the lights. The bushy-tailed rats had figured out how to avoid electrocution while carrying out their destruction.

I think we have a truce, but . . . Last week I hear a loud thump against the outside wall of my office. I went to see what it was, and five crows took off from the roof over my office. Are they the aerial allies of the squirrels? Are they starting their own battle against us? Crows are pretty aggressive birds. I've seen then chase off hawks. More significantly, I've seen Hitchcock's movie The Birds. I'm going to keep my eye on the situation . . . from a distance.

May the Lord bless you on your journey and greet you on your arrival.

Wayne



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