Squabble

0730/19th February 2023

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Two of my feline companions launched an attack in the small hours of this morning with a battering ram.

“No prisoners!”

they cried, thinking it would impress me.

Half opening one eye, I noted that it was still dark, so I drew the covers over my head with the result that I slept longer than usual.

“Not me! It wasn’t me!”

Which lead to complaints from Master Sparrow.

(That’s him, lower right.)

“May we expect a top-up, any time soon?

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Did the cats really have a battering ram?!

Well no. But that was the word that came to mind as they pulled and poked at me. Toby’s obsession with my hair is such that I tend now to sleep with a beanie on my head.

It makes me feel a bit of a spoil sport, but whereas I don’t object to the occasional yank, I also do not especially wish to end up with bald spots.

It is only recently that I have begun to recover from the hair cut I was persuaded to endure 6 weeks ago. Usually my hair grows fast. I think that cut shocked it into dormancy.

So anyway, Toby. I love him so much but apart from the risk of bald spots, I don’t think digesting human hair would be necessarily good for him. Not really a substitute for grass which is maybe what he wants.

It is possible to buy cat grass. You purchase a small pot that contains seed. You water it, and voila. Grass.

All very well if you have a single cat. Or two. But with eleven all we would have is a mess.

But the rate things are progressing, we should have grass growing outside again any time now.

Rising 30 minutes later than normal meant I missed sunrise, which may possibly have been interesting, given the cloud cover. Curses.

My impression when I glanced tardily through my window, was of a sky more reminiscent of a warm summer’s day, although overnight there had been another hard freeze.

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Peanut the fox came by the patio last night, but I didn’t attempt a new photo because it was dark and I didn’t want to alarm her. We are always pleased to see her.

Skunks don’t startle! Fortunately this little sweetie did not leave her calling card.

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At the tree line this morning, 5 squirrels scoffed corn.

Normally by now our humble offering is gone.

I should have left them to it…

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…but I always toss a few peanuts on the patio for the birds and soon there was a free-for-all.

“What is a gang of squirrels called?”

“I don’t know,” I said, “but it ought to be a squabble.”

Oh dear, but do squirrels fight!

As the other two beat each other up, Ghost sneaked in…

…then rushed back and forth, keeping out of trouble.

Later I saw him chasing off another squirrel, but Ghost picks his battles carefully. Smart boy.

Squirrels can be quite vicious with each other, which accounts for some of the nasty wounds we see periodically.

While there are individual differences, there are too many to name and unless they are obvious like Ghost or the one we call Patch Face, it would be hard to keep track.

A group of unrelated squirrels is officially a scurry which is almost as apt as “squabble”.

Since our neighbours moved away taking their lovely but murderous cat Pancho with them, there has definitely been an increase in our squirrel population.

Strangely, though, there are days when there is not a squirrel to be seen.

It’s as if they have all gone to a conference. Occasionally they leave a token chap in charge. Then, after a day or maybe two, they reappear.

Whether this is typical squirrel behaviour, I’ve no idea.

Does anyone study “common rodents?” I assume so.

For me, they are friends.

Their visits are an honour which I enjoy.

6 thoughts on “Squabble

  1. I had no idea squirrels could fight like that … I thought they were the friendliest animals! Ghost sounds like a smart little guy – well, smart enough to get something to eat while staying out of trouble!

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