My Battles with Neighborhood Critters

 

 

When we purchased a Roscommon cottage 32 years ago, we began a hobby of feeding birds. It became a treat for us: watching the greedy little beggars just outside two windows as they jostled for position at each feeder. There seemed to be dozens of bright yellow goldfinches challenging one another for dominance and a chance to gorge on tiny thistle seeds. After we demolished the cottage and replaced it with our retirement home, it was time to build a new feeder some distance from the windows but close enough to watch the variety of birds that began visiting on a regular basis. I decided on a feeding station, the better to attract different species with different foods that appealed to a larger variety of birds.

I soon learned that the seeds I generously offered for birds became a hot news item that was somehow broadcast to a variety of other creatures who ventured from the forests to my bird feeding station. The largest and seemingly most hungry of these critters was a neighborhood bear. Soon, it became obvious that the bear was not interested in sharing his good fortune with the birds; he wanted it all. He proved his selfishness on one occasion by carrying off the entire feeding station. I found some portions of it scattered about at the edge of the forest. I took his wanton destruction of my hand-built feeding station as a challenge that led me to building a new station, this one sturdier and beyond his reach by constructing the new station at the top of a tall pipe that I buried in the ground. Of course, it was something of a nuisance to refill the feeders as I had to use a ladder each time the avian beggars needed more seeds.

My success in foiling the bear didn’t last long. One morning I awoke to find the sturdy pole bent into an L shape. The enterprising bear had bent my carefully buried pole completely to the ground where he must have calmly wrestled the feeder from the pole and carried the entire station to the woods. This time, I never found just where he carried it. Perhaps he took it to his friend’s house and they all chortled at their cleverness and my inadequate design. I dug the pole out of the ground to try again, but, lacking a pipe straightener, I was unable to straighten the bent pipe. I went back to the hardware store yet again for new supplies. This time I came home with an even sturdier pipe, a 1- and 1/2-inch black iron pipe and bags of cement. I buried the heavy pipe, again establishing a new feeding station to be beyond the reach of bears even if they stood on their toes. I had a temporary set-back with the new pole when I learned that bears are smart enough to shake loose an unattached feeder from the top of even the highest of poles. After that experience,  I was careful to secure the feeding station to the top of the pole by a plumber’s attachment threaded onto the pipe. So far, the attachment has proven to be bear-proof.

Fast forward 30 years. I have continued feeding birds with fewer interruptions from bears as I finally learned to stop feeding birds in the early spring when bears have emerged from their dens and are powerfully hungry. This strategy has helped, but not eliminated the bear problem as the occasional bear wanderer sometimes stops by for a snack. More recently the critter problem has been from the smaller denizens of the forest: raccoons, 3 species of squirrels, and the annoying little chipmunks who aren’t afraid of humans: my chipmunks seem to enjoy chattering at me while I replenish the seeds.

My introduction to the raccoon problem occurred in a peculiar fashion. I had refilled the feeders after a long day and I mistakenly left my stepladder in place at the feeder. The next morning, I found the raccoon had discovered my ladder and climbed to the top step and made the tiny step onto the feeding platform where I found him calmy munching on sunflower seeds. Thereafter, he became a regular at the feeder – most times consigned to the leftovers that the birds scattered to the ground.

As the prices for feed increased this year, I decided to mount an all-out attack against the marauders stealing from the birds. Of course, I consulted Dr. Google for advice about foiling the most recent thief, the oversized raccoon. Following Google advice, I made a hasty trip to the hardware store and came home with an oversized plastic pipe whose purpose was to cover the steel pole. Google explained that raccoon hands are not large enough to gain a purchase on the oversized plastic pipe, thus preventing them from climbing to the feeder at the top. It worked. I haven’t seen a raccoon since the installation of the large pipe. Although, in all honesty, it could be a result of the feeder being empty most of the time since squirrels and chipmunks seem undeterred by the plastic pipe. I can verify this since I watched a red squirrel climb from the ground to the top and then open the door of the feeder and sit on the mound of sunflower seeds contained therein. As a consequence of this bit of red-squirrel gymnastics, I decided to concentrate my efforts in squirrel -proofing by installing a squirrel guard on the steel pole. Since none of the squirrel guards at the hardware would fit my oversized steel pipe, I was forced to improvise.

I found an old child’s sled in the barn (a roundy plastic thing that skids down a snow-covered hill, inevitably going backwards eliciting screams from the children – it’s a hoot to watch). I sawed the plastic doo-hickey to fit my over-sized pipe. I placed it at the top of the plastic pipe to which I added a plastic cap at the bottom and top to the plastic pipe, attached with plastic tie straps. The finishing touch was the addition of boards on the top of feeder to prevent the red squirrel from climbing inside. The entire assembly was secured to the pipe with an automotive exhaust pipe clamp (not visible in the photo). The entire feeder became a Rube Goldberg sort of assembly designed to prevent bears, raccoons and squirrels from stealing the seeds. I could hardly wait until the critters tried to steal my seeds again. Here is an embarrassing photo of my new invention.

The following morning, I looked at the bird feeding assembly to insure it was free from squirrels, bears, raccoons and miscellaneous other creatures, thus working as intended. To my consternation there was a red squirrel sitting on the platform happily munching seeds. I said a few bad words as I examined the evidence. All of the plastic tie straps had been chewed in two pieces and were laying on ground, and the lower cap had also been chewed but it still remained in place. There was no other damage to the contraption, nor any clue how the critter had climbed around the flexible yellow guard-shroud to reach the platform.

So that’s where I am today. I intend to take a break from my squirrel war for the time being, following the old adage that some things just aren’t worth fighting over, especially a few seeds that seem to fatten up the red squirrels in my neighborhood. I’ll keep you up to date if any other developments in the squirrel wars demand my attention.