An update to the benighted squirrel episode:
This morning for the first time I picked a pint of raspberries. The squirrel is gone, relocated to spaces where he will be less happy, as they are less abundant, but which are already making me happier. Hallelujah, says I!
The Havahart trap snapped shut on the bleeping food stealing rodent sometime between dawn and breakfast. After four days of careful squirrel feeding, I had given up on catching the berry bandit. (see previous post). The lady at Havahart customer service opined to my comment that the trap wasn’t trapping, ergo not fulfilling its promised guarantee of satisfaction, that I needed rig up a device in the trap which would make the squirrel work harder.
A trap, one would think, which promises squirrel confinement for the purpose of relocation, should come pre rigged. Never mind, it wasn’t the rigging, it was the pistachios that got him. Squirrels love pistachios.
Not wanting to share the very last Saturn peach, I tossed a couple of pistachios in the bottom of the cage.Squirrels love pistachios. He was probably so excited, that he jumped up and down on it for joy, triggering the door. His varmint thought process probably ran something to the effect of: “Goody, Goody, Goody, Hooray Pistachios, click, slam, oh Sweet Heavens, WHAT HAVE I DONE?‘
By the time I looked out the window to see how many strawberries he had eaten today, he was a furry little package of panic, tearing around the cage and clawing at the door. It was a heart warming scene.
He got one strawberry before his life changed forever.
Be well, squirrel. Enjoy the tourists and their peanuts or bread bits, and, above all, be far, far away.
One rodent down, one to go. I am smarter than a squirrel. I think.