Dear Readers, if you’ve been following me for a while you will probably know that I love squirrels, but also find them, well, a bit much sometimes. I put out feeders for the little birds and the squirrels will go to any lengths to eat every last seed, as you can see. I put out a supposed squirrel-proof feeder, which worked for a while, until the little devils not only took the lid off but ‘disappeared’ the lid somewhere in the garden. So I was intrigued to see that October is actually ‘squirrel-awareness month’ – the Squirrel Lovers Club was founded in 1995 by Gregg Bassett, who encountered a squirrel at the Grand Canyon who somehow melted his heart. It’s good to know that I’m not the only person distracted by the wildlife whilst at this wonder of the natural world – I remember being entranced by my first-ever mule deer, and amazed at the sight of a couple of chipmunks. It’s strange how much we take our ‘regular’ wildlife for granted – personally, I’m always seeing pigeons or squirrels doing something that I wouldn’t have expected.

There is actually a wealth of information on the Squirrel Lovers’ website. There’s information on care of infant or injured squirrels, along with a proviso that usually professional attention is best, if the mother is really absent. In many places, including the UK, it’s actually against the law to release a grey rehabilitated squirrel, which presents something of a challenge – I remember a programme about a Scottish wildlife charity who received some baby squirrels when their drey blew out of a tree and the mother couldn’t be found. It’s impossible to determine the species of very young squirrels, and the rehabber explained that if they turned out to be grey, rather than red, squirrels, they would have to be euthanised. What a dilemma! Fortunately they were all red squirrels, so they were eventually released back into the wild.

There’s also a very interesting article on keeping squirrels out of your attic. We don’t have an attic, so at least that’s one problem we don’t have, though I have friends who have heard the patter of tiny feet above their heads (which can sound rather like the squirrels are wearing hob-nail boots). I note that Mr Bassett thought that there was no such thing as a squirrel-proof feeder, and I have come to the conclusion that he’s right.

It sounds as if Mr Bassett was one of those people who fell in love with a creature that many people regard as vermin, and made it his life’s mission to help others to understand and appreciate them. And there are plenty worse things that one can do with one’s life. Personally, I think that the moment you see an animal as an individual (and heaven forfend you give it a name – I am still keeping an eye open for Harriet, the shower spider) you feel compassion for it – it’s no longer a category, it’s a living, breathing being. And then we start to care, and then we’re really sunk. Hey ho.

I also realised that I have never included a poem about a squirrel here on the blog, but I rather liked this one, which came second in the People Need Nature  competition set on the Young Poets’ Network. There’s a lot of keen observation here, and much admiration. See what you think.

Squirrel
by Finn Farnsworth

Swift and agile
Sleek and prehensile –
Skittering across bark
And as dexterously over brick –
Squirrel.
The arch survivor –
A thief in woodland
A bandit of suburbia,
Beautiful peanut pirate.
You skim the rigging of
Rotary washing lines
And old telephone wires:
Your sail-tail
A Spinnaker of balance –
A back garden acrobat.
Grey down of fur covers
The machine of sinew
Tendons tight
Like bowstrings
Wired to shoot across
Fence top,
Gate post, sign post,
Post box – post haste.
The highwayman of the high street,
Terror of the terraces
Ply your profession –
Livelihood in the manmade Landscape.
A narrow escape
With a clutch of grapes
Hijacked from garden vine
Jam-packed with sweet juice.
You make a getaway
Into ornamental spruce
Where you have your hideaway.