The Dangerous Lives of Squirrels
Squirrels have been coming up a lot lately. I don't even remember where and how, but in a couple of the things I've been reading (either online or in dead tree) have brought up the question of: why don't you see any baby squirrels ever?
I asked Kat that question on our walk today. She didn't know any better than I do, which is to say: I guess they just stay in the nest until they're adults. (Well, she said "they grow in nests," as if that explained everything, which it sorta does.)
On the return-leg of our walk, there was a squirrel nosing around. He called for narration, so there were calls of "Is this where I left my nuts?" and "I know they're around here somewhere" and then another squirrel came running from alllll the way over there by the next tree with a shout of "MY NUTS!" and then the chasing began.
You've seen squirrels chase each other around, I'm sure. (Well, you have if you're from anywhere that there are both trees and squirrels, which is certainly most of North America. Good god, are there squirrels in Europe? I have no idea. There must be, right?)
Okay, Wikipedia tells me they're found throughout the Americas, Europe, and Asia. Where was I?
So, the squirrels are scurrying up and down the tree, chasing and chattering and nattering and wheeee squirrels are nuts and we have just about enough time to wonder if squirrels ever, you know, fall while doing all this when BAM. Big Squirrel falls out of the tree.
He makes himself into a sort of parachute shape as he goes so he's not falling super fast, but he makes a pretty good thump when he hits and then Little Squirrel is right there after him and chasing and they go back up and then over into the next tree. We're still walking and talking about it - "I guess they do fall." "Mating season." "Look at them go." "At least it wasn't that far." "I've never seen a squirrel fall bef-" Bam.
This time, Big Squirrel falls from the very TOP of the even LARGER tree. The THUD is very loud. We stop. "Oh my god." "Do you think he's...?" I walk around the tree to see where Big Squirrel probably landed. No sign of him. "I think he hit the tree," says Kat. I look up and there is, indeed, a squirrel not three feet from my head in the bole of the tree, right at the junction of the first sub-trunk. He's not moving, just sitting there looking kinda glassy-eyed and breathing fast and hard. Did he catch himself there or did he immediately scramble up there after hitting the ground? Either way he fell at least 30 feet and made a hell of a thud when he hit.
By the time we'd returned to the road, he'd climbed a few more feet up the tree, so I'm guessing he just had the wind knocked out of him, but there was some fear and heartbreak there for us.
Squirrel mating season. "You must be this agile to breed."
I asked Kat that question on our walk today. She didn't know any better than I do, which is to say: I guess they just stay in the nest until they're adults. (Well, she said "they grow in nests," as if that explained everything, which it sorta does.)
On the return-leg of our walk, there was a squirrel nosing around. He called for narration, so there were calls of "Is this where I left my nuts?" and "I know they're around here somewhere" and then another squirrel came running from alllll the way over there by the next tree with a shout of "MY NUTS!" and then the chasing began.
You've seen squirrels chase each other around, I'm sure. (Well, you have if you're from anywhere that there are both trees and squirrels, which is certainly most of North America. Good god, are there squirrels in Europe? I have no idea. There must be, right?)
Okay, Wikipedia tells me they're found throughout the Americas, Europe, and Asia. Where was I?
So, the squirrels are scurrying up and down the tree, chasing and chattering and nattering and wheeee squirrels are nuts and we have just about enough time to wonder if squirrels ever, you know, fall while doing all this when BAM. Big Squirrel falls out of the tree.
He makes himself into a sort of parachute shape as he goes so he's not falling super fast, but he makes a pretty good thump when he hits and then Little Squirrel is right there after him and chasing and they go back up and then over into the next tree. We're still walking and talking about it - "I guess they do fall." "Mating season." "Look at them go." "At least it wasn't that far." "I've never seen a squirrel fall bef-" Bam.
This time, Big Squirrel falls from the very TOP of the even LARGER tree. The THUD is very loud. We stop. "Oh my god." "Do you think he's...?" I walk around the tree to see where Big Squirrel probably landed. No sign of him. "I think he hit the tree," says Kat. I look up and there is, indeed, a squirrel not three feet from my head in the bole of the tree, right at the junction of the first sub-trunk. He's not moving, just sitting there looking kinda glassy-eyed and breathing fast and hard. Did he catch himself there or did he immediately scramble up there after hitting the ground? Either way he fell at least 30 feet and made a hell of a thud when he hit.
By the time we'd returned to the road, he'd climbed a few more feet up the tree, so I'm guessing he just had the wind knocked out of him, but there was some fear and heartbreak there for us.
Squirrel mating season. "You must be this agile to breed."