Talking to Squirrels . . .

Monday morning the talk at feeders was all about beer. The other squirrels had quickly pointed out to Paul, the large black squirrel, that what his team had said about beer and popcorn was entirely wrong. Paul at first said his friend had been misquoted, but Stephen, the other black squirrel, Gilles the grey squirrel and Jack the red squirrel would have none of that. Finally, Paul apologized, saying he knew as well as anyone that no squirrel likes popped corn. The un-popped kernels of corn were great, but that puffed up stuff was only good for pigeons.

However, the questions still kept coming about what was beer. I finally interrupted them and told them it was a foul-tasting drink that humans used on hot summer days to make them feel better. There were questions from the floor demanding to know whether I would be wasting my money on popcorn and beer instead of peanuts and sunflower seeds. I assured them I was too old to have any chance of getting any of this largess promised pre-election. Back in the house, I made a note on the shopping list to get more of Orville’s popcorn to eat during the debates on Thursday and Friday. I think there a couple of beers in the cellar, leftover from summer, of course.

Tuesday morning we had five visitors at the feeding station. I seldom see the redpolls so this was a treat and I went indoors to get my digital camera. By the time I returned, the redpolls had flown off to another feeder. The chickadees and starlings were chirping about something, but since I do not speak fluent bird, I asked one of the black squirrels what they were saying. Apparently, the redpolls were taking a poll for different media firms, each bird was working for a different client, but the squirrel thought they were all asking the same question in different ways, often to the same pigeon.

On asking what that old squirrel thought of the polls, he laughed, saying that he and his friends always had fun with the redpolls, telling them something entirely made-up. He said the last time they were around, they really messed them up and the result, so he had heard, was entirely different from what the redpolls had reported. He went on to say that he did not approve of the redpolls, not because they ate a lot of spruce cone seeds, but because he thought them not much better than gossipers. Nineteen times out of twenty, he said, they get the wrong answers because they try to fool squirrels with the way they ask their questions.

Wednesday morning it was chatter about the eagle again. It seems the eagle had sent message to Paul to mind his tongue. This garnered a little support from the other squirrels, for although they did not support Paul taunting the eagle, they felt the eagle had no right to tell squirrels what to do. Stephen, one of the more literate of the squirrels, said he would be happy to fire off a letter to the New York Times explaining the feeling of the squirrels towards the eagle. I agreed to take the letter to the mailbox for him. Not that I have anything against eagles, but they do seem to be getting more numerous in the past years. We need a balance in nature.

Thursday morning the feeder was quieter because Paul, Stephen, Gilles and Jack had gone west to get ready for their debates. I thought it was a good chance to for me to find out what the other squirrels thought about the campaign their leaders were waging. A couple of the younger ones thought there was no difference between any of them, they all just wanted to be boss squirrel. One older black squirrel, the one who has tufted ears and grey whiskers, told them that there was a big difference in their philosophies.

Paul, he said, wanted to take 50% of their seeds, then redistribute 40% the seeds to all the squirrels as he saw fit. He would keep the rest for a rainy day. Jack wanted 50% of the seeds and half the peanuts and give out 60%, using some of next year’s crop. Gilles wanted a quarter of all the food for his grey squirrels. Stephen however, wanted 50% of the sunflowers seeds to redistribute as he saw fit. He wanted the squirrels to keep all the peanuts they could find, giving them out themselves to whoever wanted them.

The young squirrels immediately said they would vote for Stephen if that were the case. The older fellow cautioned them though. He posed the question of how the older or sicker squirrels, those who could not climb as well as others, and those who had to stay at the nest to look after the babies would fare if they did not give over enough of the seeds and peanuts. I thought it was a good thing that Gym, the chipmunk, was not here since he seems to want to store away all of his seeds. Gym seems willing to share seeds at the feeder without squabbling, but once he has his cheeks full, away he goes. I often wondered how the chipmunk system works – did they share everything equally in their underground caverns?

Friday morning I asked about the debates but it seems almost everyone slept through the whole thing. The one grey squirrel said she thought Gilles did okay, but the show would have to change if it were to have any chance of her watching it again. Two redpolls came by but only stayed long enough to talk to the grey squirrel. I went indoors, debating whether I would watch the Great Debates this evening. Too bad the CBC comedy evening was off for the holidays. Or was it?