Tag Archives: squirrels

She’s a clever little b*tch.

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Before the snow fell, our resident rodent pest from Hell. red squirrel was busy.

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Stealing seed from the birds and apples from the deer.

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Seeds were stuffed in every conceivable hole and our deck looked like a fruit salad exploded.

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But after the first snow storm?

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She was a happy camper.

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And remembered most of her stash spots.

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Im sure that fruit tasted good.

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She’s annoying.

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But clever.

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Because I had to.

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As I was cruising Amazon for a calendar the other day, I realized there was only one choice.

Oh, I could have picked one with barns. Lord knows we’ve spent enough time and money on ours.

Or I could have picked one with white tailed deer. But we have plenty of those in the backyard.

And I could have picked one about beer. But the man cave has one of those already.

So what did I choose?

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Yes.

Not 12 months of red squirrels… but a full 18.

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Seeing all the trouble she’s caused us in the past year?

It seemed highly appropriate.

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She doesn’t give up.

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Neither snow nor rain… nor frigid temperatures will stop the red squirrel from Hell.

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She was scurrying over the roof and across the deck railing…

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Trying to make her way to the seed buffet.

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But this snow was light, fluffy and thick and every time she tried to walk across it?

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She fell through.

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And yes, I laughed my rapidly expanding, thank you Covid 19 ass off.

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But she had the last laugh.

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Because the bitch has learned to tunnel.

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She tunneled for over an hour.

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Back and forth.

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Building an entire red squirrel subway line.

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This doesn’t bode well for my dream of her dying of starvation over the winter.

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Or the safety of our home’s foundation for that matter.

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If I wake up next month with her sitting at the kitchen table nibbling my Krispy Kreme’s? Things are going to get real.

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A Merry Christmas to all.

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Wherever you are and however you choose to celebrate, I hope it brings you joy. There’s been a decided lack of that this year… and I doubt I’m alone when I say I’m ready to kiss 2020 goodbye.

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Our holiday will be small and quiet, and in true 2020 fashion the only thing Santa saw fit to bring me this year was a torrential rain storm with 65 mph winds that will melt the snow, cause a power outage, and make our ceiling spout water like the Bellagio’s fountain. Good times!

But my husband and I have our health… and each other. I can’t ask for more.

So instead of boring you with some sappy Christmas post, I’ll leave you with two pictures.

1. Is it any wonder this was one of the Christmas cards I sent out this year?

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I think not.

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2. A little blast from the past…. yours truly on Santa’s lap.

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It’s the only such photo I have, as my mother told me I ditched St. Nick at a very early age and refused visits after this one. To those who know me well, this shouldn’t come as any surprise.

Ho! Ho! Hmm….

Pass the eggnog.

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Pandemic humor

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Laughing.

You need to do it…. so it might as well be here.

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I knew I was totally blameless! Now if someone would just tell my waistline…

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If we haven’t, we should .

Like right now.

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Karen. Still causing trouble…

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Not yet mind you, but come January it’s entirely possible.

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I saw a woman buy 13 bottles of bleach last week.

They walk among us.

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Backyard wildlife, homicide division.

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Mother and Bambi are chowing down regularly and trying to lay on extra winter pounds.

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But sadly I was right about the blue eyes fading. Once this little one grows up we won’t be able to distinguish him/her so easily.

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But look who’s made our backyard his new hunting ground….

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A juvenile Coopers Hawk.

He perches on the bird feeder pole and waits patiently for lunch to drop in.

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I got excited when I saw this:

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And was seriously hoping mother red squirrel had met her doom…

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But unfortunately it was a dove.

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Better luck next time guy.

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She’s persistent, I’ll give her that.

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Alternate title : The Bitch is Back.

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Still on our roof.

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Still trying to chew her way back into our house.

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Look at her.

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Taunting me.

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We’ve sealed up every entry point we can find.

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But she keeps looking.

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Did I laugh when she scrambled on top of the gutter, slipped and fell in the downspout?

Damn right I did.

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Still driving me nuts.

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I came home from the store the other day and stepped up on our kitchen landing.

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Which is when I saw it.

Do you see it?

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Let me give you a hint…

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We hadn’t seen the little red bastards for a while, but it was right there.

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A stolen apple wedge. Prominently placed where I couldn’t help but see it.

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That bitch is taunting me now.

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I love my town.

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And their wacky Facebook Group postings.

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Cat damage and springs that poke your butt?

Hurry up people, these won’t last long!

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A noisy big yellow machine. I shall follow this thread and report back. Who knows… maybe it’s the Beatles’ long lost submarine.

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Christ. Don’t tell my husband!

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You may not know what it feels like to fall off the turnip truck, but in my town… apparently you can fall off the potato one.

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This is a running gag because certain parts of our town lose power quite easily. Flatulent rodents will probably strike here next, stay tuned

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Sadly, I know of no retail chicken establishments.

Wonder if I could talk them into a few clever and highly motivated red squirrels instead?

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She’s baaaack.

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I thought maybe we’d seen the last of her.

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But no, she was out back stealing chopped up deer apples yesterday.

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She was back on the patio table.

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And there’s only one reason for that. Do you know how sick and tired I am of finding small pieces of rotted apple every time I sit down?

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And then of course there’s the poo.

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She leaves it there on purpose, I know it.

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And may I just say, sipping from puddles of rain water filled with your own poo?

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Not the least bit appetizing.

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And please note… in that last picture? She is literally pooping. Am I a great photo journalist or what!

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