[Regia-NA] Straw hats and flying teeth

[rmhowe]

Wulfhere se Treowryhta wrote:
> And do these squirrels wear straw hats?

I wouldn't put it past Hazel to make them some.

> We are blessed(cursed) to have gray squirrels, red squirrels, now black 
> (which are very much like the grays), flying squirrels and chipmunks 
> (which are like red squirrels with racing stripes). They gnaw everything 
> into oblivion if you let them. They are all on the decline here with the 
> resurgence of hawks, owls and coyotes.

I envy you the variety - flying squirrels and chipmunks do
not live in our immediate neighborhood but the house where
I spent my late teens prior to college had quite a colony
of chipmunks. When I lived there it was C shaped and one
had his solitary little hole dead center in the middle of
the tiny hedged yard where the indoor swimming pool eventually
went. The head would pop up rather like the whack-a-mole
fair game when he checked his security. I understand in
England this is called Splat-a-Rat!. Must be political.

At fair our farmers sometimes bring a mongoose box which
is a long dark box with a screen in one end. They persuade
innocents into looking deep into the end of the box
at which point they cease beating on it to arouse the
mongoose and release a catch on the end that allows
the back top of the box to spring up, launching a fur
covered "something" right at the now screaming spectators
in true trebuchet fashion. Might do well at demos. ;)
"See the weasel!" "Here we'll wake him up for you!"
[Great banging of sticks.] "Oh Gawd! Lookout! He's loose!"

This is a bit more exciting than the stuffed scarecrows
lying on the ground with their heads under cows... you know -
general farm humor. Apple bobs. I suppose it's a good thing
they don't study trebuchets for real as there would no doubt
be flying horse apples across the aisles. (Here in the SCA
we sometimes use table models for grapes.)

It got really cold here about eight years back and a
grey squirrel knawed open the entrance to one of our
birdhouses so he could squeeze inside. The remarkable
thing is -somewhere- he found some 1/4" x 2" white foam
and erected a perfectly butted barrier of three pieces
across the inside of the hole to hide behind.
Must have been a reincarnated carpenter. Better than
some I have worked with. I last saw the house this week
in my shed. I still haven't replaced the front.
Surprised he could squeeze in it and still arrange his
'boards'.

So I would think a hat wouldn't be much of a problem.

On really hot days I used to watch them lie flat on
the limbs of the trees near work all extremities
hanging in an area there was a natural airdraft going
up.

 > My 14lb double-clawed tabby used
> to eat his share but at 11years old, he's retired to hunting just half 
> days. After watching his young himalayan girlfriend try to take over a 
> kill, and seeing the chipmunk bloody her nose and generally kick her 
> butt, I have no hope for her.

Must have been a female chipmunk.
Except for periods raising her children all chipmunks
around here live alone, establishing little territories
and get 'frisky' only during mating season. Greedy little
hoarders. Smart.

Male animals will frequently let an opponent up once
they have kicked its ass and established dominance.
Females in general want a decisive end to the opponent
if they are so compelled as to fight one. No mercy at all.

The most enraged creature I have ever seen was a chipmunk.

The last time I saw my mother alive we were in the big
room off the kitchen. She slept on a sofa because of
similar back pain her last years.

My stepfather went outside to put a line of sunflower seeds
along the rail of the porch and soon the first chipmunk
of several showed up.

As she was stuffing her fat little face full
of seeds a second showed up and rudely shoved her off
the rail into about a four foot drop to the ground.

A minute later she was back atop the rail and rampantly
charged the culprit from behind, fully intent on biting
his tail off at the root for such rudeness, and she tried.
Boy she tried.
As he tried desperately to save his ass he fled pell mell
down the rail strewing sunflower seeds to either side as
if they were elevated water and he was on waterskis.
At the end of the rail sat the house wall and he slammed
headfirst into that before bouncing himself off into the
bushes where she'd been knocked a moment before.

Were I him I'd have barricaded my solitary hole and
stayed there for a while hoping to hell she'd forget
my transgressions. We never saw the physical results
of her attack as we left the next day. I'm betting that
tail never worked right again. A beaver's teeth never
took down a tree so fast. He'd been afraid to raise
his back end to run but somehow he flew down that
railing. It was his rear legs skidding that launched
all the spraying seeds.
How much of it was force from her attack
I am uncertain. She never stopped at all. She flew
after him and eventually returned to gather the
spilled seed.

My wife's totem and nickname since childhood is chipmunk
and I can assure you she is a 5' short bag full of
flying elbows when she wants to be.
I hope she never gets that mad myself.
She's become quite interested in York fasicule 17/15
which depicts the squirrel seal with the motto:
"I cracke nutes."  If and when I get my casting area
set up I suppose I shall have to make her one.

That male chipmunk reminded me an awful lot of a certain
male German Shephard I saw taking delight in chasing
a large truck and biting at the front wheels. Great
fun until he got his triumphant ass in front of that
truck, at which point it tried to eat him.
It was awful curious watching his front end run like
hell upright and the back end going sideways desperately
attempting to get out from underneath. The truck slowed
a bit so he succeeded and lived.
As I was coming from the opposite direction I got a
first hand view. Instantaneous change of attitude on
that dog's face.

A very similar beast tried to do the same to my truck
repeatedly on the way to or from a cabinet shop I
worked in in the hinterlands. Someone suggested an
old country 'fix' of welding a tire iron to a wheel lug nut
but I didn't do it. I finally figured out the dog was
so bored in his yard it was the only excitement he got.
Rather like a medieval serf never allowed to leave a
dead end road. No wonder quarterstaffs were so popular.

Magnus