Finding myself with some discretionary time on my hands, I have begun to experiment with backyard activities. Now, to some, that could mean gardening, landscaping, bird watching or any number of other fun activities. But I have started Fluffy watching.
Now you may ask “Who is Fluffy?” A name normally selected for the master cat in your home. And, as a matter of fact, Fluffy is a great name for a cat. But for me, Fluffy is a rogue squirrel bent on stealing my peace and home.
I first met Fluffy over a year ago. He was hanging up side down on my bird feeder, with both of his hands in the seed. He ate for over ten minutes while my guard dogs, Bailey and Barkleah watched, poised to attack. Then he casually climbed down from the feeder and challenged my dogs to a run across the yard. Of course, both dogs were game but had no chance to catch Fluffy. He climbed up a tall tree while the dogs jump up and down at the bottom.
At first, I thought my goal was to keep Fluffy out of the birdseed. After all, this seed was custom seed purchased for the Cardinals and Bluebirds, not for a Squirrel. I tried installing a Squirrel baffle. It was to frighten him away. He only saw this as an addition to the game he played with us daily. I tried putting out Squirrel food; he laughed and moved on to the feeder for the gourmet bird seed. He tormented my dogs and me for months.
Then one day, I heard him in the attic. Oh no, not inside, Yes. Now we had a real problem He was setting up house for the winter. I called a professional Squirrel hunter. He sealed the hole in my house, and we hoped for the best. The scratching in the attic stopped. I felt I had won. But no. Fluffy was back the next spring day and chewing a new hole. Now it was all out war.
After contacting several experts, my crafty grandson installed peanut butter into a two-ended cage. This cage was placed on the roof in a path to the new hole made by the squirrel. In just one hour, Fluffy was eating peanut butter in the cage and we were traveling to a beautiful park four miles from our home. What a win - win for us all. The dogs could rest from the teasing. I could get back to working on my books, and Fluffy would be living in a new resort with many other beautiful squirrels. After all, he was a bachelor and needed a fine spouse.
Within one short week, my grandson heard familiar sounds coming from atop my roof. Could it be? The next morning, I inspected the attic. No squirrel was inside. But out in the lawn,Yes, Fluffy was back, or someone resembling him, with three more companions.(A beautiful new wife?) Now what? I give up. He can have the gourmet bird seed. He can live in a nest in the trees. But two traps are in my attic. He can never, never, live my attic. We will learn to live in peace. He is the master Squirrel you know.
Now you may ask “Who is Fluffy?” A name normally selected for the master cat in your home. And, as a matter of fact, Fluffy is a great name for a cat. But for me, Fluffy is a rogue squirrel bent on stealing my peace and home.
I first met Fluffy over a year ago. He was hanging up side down on my bird feeder, with both of his hands in the seed. He ate for over ten minutes while my guard dogs, Bailey and Barkleah watched, poised to attack. Then he casually climbed down from the feeder and challenged my dogs to a run across the yard. Of course, both dogs were game but had no chance to catch Fluffy. He climbed up a tall tree while the dogs jump up and down at the bottom.
At first, I thought my goal was to keep Fluffy out of the birdseed. After all, this seed was custom seed purchased for the Cardinals and Bluebirds, not for a Squirrel. I tried installing a Squirrel baffle. It was to frighten him away. He only saw this as an addition to the game he played with us daily. I tried putting out Squirrel food; he laughed and moved on to the feeder for the gourmet bird seed. He tormented my dogs and me for months.
Then one day, I heard him in the attic. Oh no, not inside, Yes. Now we had a real problem He was setting up house for the winter. I called a professional Squirrel hunter. He sealed the hole in my house, and we hoped for the best. The scratching in the attic stopped. I felt I had won. But no. Fluffy was back the next spring day and chewing a new hole. Now it was all out war.
After contacting several experts, my crafty grandson installed peanut butter into a two-ended cage. This cage was placed on the roof in a path to the new hole made by the squirrel. In just one hour, Fluffy was eating peanut butter in the cage and we were traveling to a beautiful park four miles from our home. What a win - win for us all. The dogs could rest from the teasing. I could get back to working on my books, and Fluffy would be living in a new resort with many other beautiful squirrels. After all, he was a bachelor and needed a fine spouse.
Within one short week, my grandson heard familiar sounds coming from atop my roof. Could it be? The next morning, I inspected the attic. No squirrel was inside. But out in the lawn,Yes, Fluffy was back, or someone resembling him, with three more companions.(A beautiful new wife?) Now what? I give up. He can have the gourmet bird seed. He can live in a nest in the trees. But two traps are in my attic. He can never, never, live my attic. We will learn to live in peace. He is the master Squirrel you know.
