We have a large smelly tree in the backyard. It grows some kind of fruit that I've never seen sold in stores and the reason for this is probably because it smells faintly of candy and blood. However, this scent has not put the local squirrel population off one bit. They flock to this tree. And the tree grows without a bit of help from me. Hoping to ignore the tree to death didn't work and it's grown about a foot since we bought the house, nestling up against our back porch which means the squirrels frolic around the back porch which is what first caught my husband's attention.
Listen, it's cute, I get it. Fuzzy grey haired little animals hopping around on a tree, it's fun. But while I am able to ignore the squirrel demographic, my big hearted husband is not. He started by watching them out the laundry room window, then he would slowly open the back door, hoping they wouldn't dash away. Day after day he worked at this, and day after day they ran. That's when he came up with the idea of a squirrel buffet of sorts, gently placing nuts on our back porch railing, making sure they were evenly spaced. But they snubbed his snacks. You would think instinct would take over and the squirrels would start snatching them up, maybe even fighting over this feast, but I guess their penchant for hurting my husband's feelings was greater than their urge to eat.
Finally, all of this came to an abrupt end. The excitement in my husband's eyes when he saw several nuts missing from the railing, and the despair once he realized it was the wind that had knocked them off. The cold nuts lying on the ground below. Unwanted. Ignored. Uneaten.
Oh, I'll catch him glancing out the back window from time to time, but I suspect that's more habit than hope. Sad, really.
Squirrels blow.
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