First Squirrel Rehomed

If you read these regularly, you're aware I hate the local squirrels for digging up and eating the bulbs I plant in the fall. They are known to love tulips, lilies, crocus, even scilla bulbs. They are not known to eat daffodil bulbs but the local ones haven't read the manual on those and eat them anyway. Those manuals also state that smells deter them. Cinnamon? For a week maybe.  Coyote urine? Apparently they haven't met one they can't escape from by climbing trees with a couple large bulbs in their cheek pouches - and that stuff was really expensive!

This fall I'm replanting daffodils and scillas where the squirrel buffet was held last year. Before I finished the scilla row, they'd sneaked in overnight and started digging those up. Time to get the traps out. Live traps, that is. I'd gotten two last spring. My son came over, showed me how to set them up, and we left them sitting in the living room for when planting time came again.

You want to place any bets on whether either of us remembered how to reset them?  With high hopes I drove them over to his house, with specific and emphatic instructions on setting them up as soon as he figured it out again, but this time having me do it over and over until I felt fairly confident I knew how. The trick is starting with one squared U-shaped piece, grabbing it by the bottom bar of the U. Once I get that moving toward the inside of the trap, things fall into place, the hook stands out, and a finger wiggle sets it up.

Whew!

He thoughtfully unfastened them so I could practice once getting home. Fifteen minutes of something totally different could clear the mind just enough to forget the critical starting point. I got them set, spread peanut butter on the tilt tray by sticking the knife with it between the bars which were just wide enough. Then they went outside in two locations, neither visible to the other, where dry roasted peanuts were scattered just outside the open end and across the bottom, both to and past the tilt tray which springs it.

Nothing on day 1. Nor day 2.

Today was day 3, and I noticed the peanuts had been scarfed up from the closest trap, leaving the trap unsprung. I went around the corner to view the second trap and immediately noticed it too was unsprung but had a squirrel inside just finishing breakfast. It startled when I approached, but since the opening faced me it jumped on the tilt tray!

Yahoo!

I brought the tray up  on the porch to let it rest while I got ready for driving the car. Part of that was figuring out where my heavy hide gloves were, I'd just seen them, but where? In case the thing in its terror decided to turn and bite me, I wanted as little success from its endeavor as possible.

I put a sheet of cardboard across the car passenger seat before setting the trap on it - for obvious reasons to anybody who's handled a terrified animal. Or who wants a clean seat in the car next time they sit there. The trap and contents went on that, after photos of the critter were attempted on the porch. I wasn't sure how blurred they were, hadn't checked yet, deciding rehoming the thing took priority. 

I did get a little lucky, when I checked later. One of the three is clear enough one can guess it's actually a squirrel in a trap, on a porch inside its rails. But like most mug shots it's trying to hide its face to avoid identification. I wasn't going for perfection, the classic animal face pose with an eye clearly showing, or anything like that, I didn't even try to check for gender. But you may note a very full belly. Yes, I also love those dry roasted nuts!

 I knew just the place for it. I'd been scouting all summer. First requirement was a very low-traffic spot, fairly well hidden from anybody who might object to my releasing squirrels in the area. Second was having the release spot far enough from my gardens that it wouldn't be likely to return. Third, in order to aid the second, was a spot with ideal squirrel habitat.  I found a spot along a dirt road, off another road off a county road with little traffic. It's lined with oak trees on one side, a cattail swamp edging a small lake on the other, and nearby buildings out of view from where I stopped.

The squirrel stayed active while I drove, looking for that one magic spot where it could bite through the steel  and escape. I don't think it broke any teeth in the attempt, or at least nothing was left behind to indicate such a result.  I got my gloves on after parking, hauled the trap out without incident, got the door open and pointed the open end at the ground. Less that a second later there was a rustle of leaves in the grass, up the hill and straight on till morning... Oh wait, that's Peter Pan. It didn't take more than another full second till it was out of view, hearing, or any indication it was still in the area. It's direction of travel had been straight towards the tallest oak, which I'd parked under, so I imagine it's busy taking over its new territory now.

Rather than turning around I continued  down the gravel road and a couple turns later was parking at the local apple orchard store which just opened for the season. Currently both traps are reset with more peanuts, and an apple pie is finishing baking in the oven. Steve likes the apple caramel candies they sell there, while I like their plain caramels, so once the next squirrel gets rehomed, I'll be shopping there again. Probably even without any squirrels to rehome. It's the principle of the thing, doncha know.

I enjoy imagining family reunions as the local extended rehomed family explores a spot with more food, fewer cars, and miles of nearly continuous treetops for their aerobatics: "Hi Fred, Hey Larry". 

"Hello Sheila, what kept you? Didn't like the salt on the nuts? Need sea salt next time? You always were too fussy!"