The Puddinette has declared war…on a squirrel. Not all squirrels, mind you, just this one (as far as I know):
The crux of the issue is that my blushing bride deeply enjoys the birds that swing by to visit the tree just outside her home office window and nibble from the birdfeeders she so diligently keeps full. The problem here is that Rocky (seen above) has been stealing our bird food ever since we finally broke free of winter’s insidiously frigid grip.
She’s tried everything to keep the persistent little rodent away from our avian-intended treats. That feeder pictured above certainly didn’t start the season in that location, oh no. It was originally in a much lower position, closer to the heart of the tree, surrounded by other branches.
In that position, though, it didn’t take long before she was witnessing her fuzzy nemesis sitting on one of the nearby branches, contently munching away at the seed in the feeder like a barfly noshing free peanuts while slurping down a twelve-pack of PBRs on Tuesday night.
From that moment on, it has been ON like Donkey Kong (for the record, I don’t really know what that means either, but it’s big with the Mini-Puddinette, who surprisingly, popularized the phrase even though she’s never actually seen Donkey Kong).
The Puddinette then began the systematic process of trying to find the best feeder/location combination possible to guarantee that it’s the actual birds getting the tasty goodness rather than our ravenous friend Rocky. At one point she even had this house-looking thing that was so far away from any other branches and hanging so low that our little feed-filcher couldn’t reach it from the tree.
So he jumped onto the thing entirely and clung desperately while gobbling goodness.
That led us to the latest feeder and position, which she thought might do the trick. It’s got tiny little pegs that are too small to hold a rodent for the birdies to perch on while they peck away, very small holes to prevent squirrel-sized paws from reaching in, and even little covers that have to be swiveled open to offer access to the food.
As evidenced by the picture above, though, that apparently wasn’t good enough. It seems we’re dealing with the Pink Panther of birdseed burglary. And I fear things are soon going to take a turn for the worse. Shortly after his picture was taken, I found my wife dressed head to toe in camouflage fatigues, hanging mines around the feeder, and polishing a new rifle with a laser sight. I fear how the garden club is going to react.
Ok, so not really, but still, her mission remains. So far, things aren’t looking good for the birds. The score has to be something like Rocky 97, Birds 3. I can tell you who the real loser is, though. That’s unequivocally yours truly. Sure, it might all look like fun and games, but I’m buying birdseed by the skid-load at this point, and our Sinister Squirrel friend sometimes just sits on the porch and laughs at me.
On the other hand, though, any of God’s creatures willing to hang upside to steal some seed, well, I’m tempted to think that at least they earned it. I’m not hanging head-first from a branch trying to get my dinner, how about you?