Thwarted by Rodents (Yet Again)

BS (Before Scott) my animal-loving wife Ann had pets, lots of pets.  Truth be told, she still has lots of pets.

Before proceeding it may be helpful to define 'pet' as Ann means it.  A pet is an animal that you have a name for, it responds to that name, it's fed by her, and its habitat, at least part of the time is indoors.

Now that I think of it, our new cat, Luna, may not qualify as a pet using that definition, falling well short of criteria #2.

One pet in her past, out of hundreds, that Ann talks most fondly of is a pet red squirrel that she named 'Skits'.  She tells me that she would go out on the back deck and call 'Skits' and she could hear her red squirrel jumping from the very tops of pine trees on a high wire path, all with the intent of being greeted by some delectable morsel of food and the chance to commune with its beloved provider.

I'm convinced that we have great great great grandchildren of Skits around here now.  

Which brings me to my definition of a pet.  A pet is a dog, a cat, a bird, or a fish. Turtles, fox, otter, beavers, bears, weasels, worms, crickets, aardvarks, or platypus's are not pets.  They're wild animals.  Ok, the platypus is extinct, but that's precisely because it was not a pet.

Oh yes, a person might feed them, name them, even house them inside.  But that doesn't make them pets.  At least in my book.  And that's the only book that counts now since I'm the guy writing this drivel.

I believe my theory that Skit's progeny's progeny's progeny loiters around the house expecting handouts is correct.  These current guys are smart, quick and creative.

Case in point.  I have spent years and lots of dollars trying to design a system of feeding birds that does not include the Skits kids' kids.  I've purchased any number of those so-called 'squirrel--proof feeders and strung them up on an elaborate maze of wires, pulleys and twine.  Each time they find a way to overcome my most creative ideas.  For just one example--click here.

Allow me to state that I'll admit to a certain amount of obsession over this.  I've gone as far as photographing feeders on other people's property if I feel it's a plan worthy of deterring the little critters.  

So I decided to keep the plan simple.  We purchased this huge feeder with a baffle on it and a screwed on lid.  I strung it up between two huge trees about 30 feet apart and threaded the line, too thin for a thief to walk on, but strong enough to hold 10 pounds of bird seed.

The system has been up for over six months--a record of sorts.  I guess more accurately I should phrase the previous sentence, "The system had been up for over a year . . ." for Skits' kids chewed through the line while standing on the pulley, causing the whole shebang to crash to the ground spilling enough sunflower seed on the ground to allow the squirrel family to make it through the next four winters.

My first reaction was to give up.  After all, how long can I keep banging my head against the wall and wondering where the pain comes from?  The answer to that question is still unknown because my second reaction is to never give up.  While Winston Churchill may have been proud of me, (According to some sources he once gave a three-word commencement speech, 'Never Give Up') my mother's admonition once again comes to mind--too much of anything is bad for you.  And the downside to determination is foolhardiness.

(to be continued)