Beware of Squirrel!
Guard Dogs Have Nothing on Our House Squirrel
I am an avid hunter
and I advocate the practice for anyone who needs to supplement their food costs
with venison or wild pork. With that said, I do not advocate hunting as a sport
for the sake of trophy seeking. My first hunt with my father placed me face to
face against a fully grown wild boar with 5 inch tusks. The beast charged me
after I failed to get a clean shot. My lesson was to respect these creatures
and only take from the land what I needed. There is no need to hunt small prey
for sustenance unless you have no deer or wild boar available. I'm sure most
trophy hunters traipsing the countryside would reconsider their prey of choice
if a squirrel charged them and attacked!
While hunting for deer one late one afternoon we heard repeated shots in the distance. I grew frustrated at this. We would not see any deer grazing in our field with this idiot emptying his entire box of shells into the trees. My older brother was just as angry and his temper arguably twice as bad as mine. We set out in the direction of the trigger happy hunter in our woods. We drew closer and the shots grew louder. Surely this hunter had not missed his prey so many times. As we drew ever closer, we began to see the evidence of the hunter's motives.
Along our path lay blood and tiny pink squirrel bodies. The hunter was firing into the nests with a shotgun to dislodge the adult nesting squirrels. Those that did not fall to the ground, the hunter left to suffer and die in the trees. Their young scattered beneath the trees of their assaulted nests. We caught up to the two hunters and politely informed them they were no longer welcomed to hunt on our property. I think I may have broken a knuckle when I shook their hands in farewell.
As I picked one of the cold pink bodies from the leaves I noticed it was still alive. My brother shook his head. Our father had a strict rule about wild pets. I reminded my brother our father had many strict rules we ignored and placed the baby squirrel in my pocket. We returned home and I hid the infant squirrel in my closet with a heat lamp over its box.
With an eye dropper of warm milk several times a day my squirrel began to grow and develop a reddish orange coat of fur. It was a fox squirrel, the largest breed of squirrel in our part of the country. They grow to be about 2 foot long not including a 1 foot tail. A healthy fox squirrel can weigh as much as 3 lbs and are highly territorial. It wasn't long before my mother found my hidden stowaway while cleaning my room. She scolded us for having brought the animal into the house and reminded us of our father's rule. At the same time we noticed the squirrel was sleeping soundly in her lap. My brother's plan seemed to be working as expected. By the time our father had arrived home our mother had become completely attached to the young squirrel. The issue was settled long before our father even had a vote.
Foxy's pet peeve was tugging at his tail. This indignity would result in a reprisal of viciousness on a level only exhibited by pit bulls. He was tolerant of almost any other form of harassment. We quickly learned that Foxy had a daily routine and expected his designated area be unmolested. He was very good at keeping his wooden nest clean and would usually turn in early. A bowl of walnuts was kept on a separate counter in the kitchen and Foxy would usually sit quietly and eat when we ate. After dinner, Foxy would make his rounds sniffing at the windows and doorways before settling on our father's recliner armrest or mother’s headrest as we watched television.
Visitors were thoroughly vetted before entering the house. Foxy would meet them at the doorway growling and barking loudly. This was no display. If they attempted to enter before Foxy had laid the ground rules they could receive a vicious bite! It typically took about 5 minutes for Foxy to go through is posturing and circling while chattering loudly and hopping with his furry tail fully fuzzed. He would then give the visitor a final once over and walk away. The visitor was now welcomed to enter the house but remained under Foxy's watchful eye.
Foxy enjoyed his time of daily reflection outside sitting in our large old growth oak. The birds and other squirrels took their leave during these sessions. This respect was also shown by local dogs and cats in the neighborhood. Once Foxy got on the small of the back between the shoulder blades there was nothing the largest dog or cat could do to remove him. He would ride them around the yard with his razor sharp teeth sunk deep into the flesh.
Foxy remained a member of our household for 2 more years. He began to spend more of his time in the old oak. We would call to him but he would not come. We left a window open during the day and sometimes he would come in for a Walnut. We then saw that Foxy had found a companion in the old oak. She was a beautiful fox herself and surely had never seen such a fine specimen of male Sciurus niger. Foxy had lived well and ate well his entire life and was nearly twice the average size of those of his kin in the wild. Over time, Foxy and his new mate would sit at our window and eat walnuts. He raised his own family in that oak and his descendants live there to this very day.
While hunting for deer one late one afternoon we heard repeated shots in the distance. I grew frustrated at this. We would not see any deer grazing in our field with this idiot emptying his entire box of shells into the trees. My older brother was just as angry and his temper arguably twice as bad as mine. We set out in the direction of the trigger happy hunter in our woods. We drew closer and the shots grew louder. Surely this hunter had not missed his prey so many times. As we drew ever closer, we began to see the evidence of the hunter's motives.
Along our path lay blood and tiny pink squirrel bodies. The hunter was firing into the nests with a shotgun to dislodge the adult nesting squirrels. Those that did not fall to the ground, the hunter left to suffer and die in the trees. Their young scattered beneath the trees of their assaulted nests. We caught up to the two hunters and politely informed them they were no longer welcomed to hunt on our property. I think I may have broken a knuckle when I shook their hands in farewell.
As I picked one of the cold pink bodies from the leaves I noticed it was still alive. My brother shook his head. Our father had a strict rule about wild pets. I reminded my brother our father had many strict rules we ignored and placed the baby squirrel in my pocket. We returned home and I hid the infant squirrel in my closet with a heat lamp over its box.
With an eye dropper of warm milk several times a day my squirrel began to grow and develop a reddish orange coat of fur. It was a fox squirrel, the largest breed of squirrel in our part of the country. They grow to be about 2 foot long not including a 1 foot tail. A healthy fox squirrel can weigh as much as 3 lbs and are highly territorial. It wasn't long before my mother found my hidden stowaway while cleaning my room. She scolded us for having brought the animal into the house and reminded us of our father's rule. At the same time we noticed the squirrel was sleeping soundly in her lap. My brother's plan seemed to be working as expected. By the time our father had arrived home our mother had become completely attached to the young squirrel. The issue was settled long before our father even had a vote.
Foxy's pet peeve was tugging at his tail. This indignity would result in a reprisal of viciousness on a level only exhibited by pit bulls. He was tolerant of almost any other form of harassment. We quickly learned that Foxy had a daily routine and expected his designated area be unmolested. He was very good at keeping his wooden nest clean and would usually turn in early. A bowl of walnuts was kept on a separate counter in the kitchen and Foxy would usually sit quietly and eat when we ate. After dinner, Foxy would make his rounds sniffing at the windows and doorways before settling on our father's recliner armrest or mother’s headrest as we watched television.
Visitors were thoroughly vetted before entering the house. Foxy would meet them at the doorway growling and barking loudly. This was no display. If they attempted to enter before Foxy had laid the ground rules they could receive a vicious bite! It typically took about 5 minutes for Foxy to go through is posturing and circling while chattering loudly and hopping with his furry tail fully fuzzed. He would then give the visitor a final once over and walk away. The visitor was now welcomed to enter the house but remained under Foxy's watchful eye.
Foxy enjoyed his time of daily reflection outside sitting in our large old growth oak. The birds and other squirrels took their leave during these sessions. This respect was also shown by local dogs and cats in the neighborhood. Once Foxy got on the small of the back between the shoulder blades there was nothing the largest dog or cat could do to remove him. He would ride them around the yard with his razor sharp teeth sunk deep into the flesh.
Foxy remained a member of our household for 2 more years. He began to spend more of his time in the old oak. We would call to him but he would not come. We left a window open during the day and sometimes he would come in for a Walnut. We then saw that Foxy had found a companion in the old oak. She was a beautiful fox herself and surely had never seen such a fine specimen of male Sciurus niger. Foxy had lived well and ate well his entire life and was nearly twice the average size of those of his kin in the wild. Over time, Foxy and his new mate would sit at our window and eat walnuts. He raised his own family in that oak and his descendants live there to this very day.
Sources/Resources
Previously Posted on FullofKnowlege.com
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