I need the squirrels…

but they don’t need me.

Yeah, yeah everyone has their own legitimate take on squirrels/tree rats/yard rodents. For me, they’re just… squirrels. Of course, they have yet to eat through the siding of my house or chew through the wiring in the attic; legitimate gripes others have shared with me. Oh, wait, I completely forgot - they did gnaw through wires under my car. That was a “fun” car bill. NOT.  Clearly, I’ve forgiven them because I still address them as squirrels rather than using more gnarly nomenclature such as &#%!@?!*!

Returning to needing squirrels….Yes, I feed them off my back deck and sometimes on the deck, as well. (OK, just go ahead and be appalled! It’s my house after all.) What do I feed the poor undernourished (oh, yeah, right!) squirrels who, research has shown, can dig up 95% of what they’ve buried. 95%!  I feed them from the same mixture that goes into my birdfeeder. Since feeding the birds during the pandemic seems to have become a national pastime, the price of birdseed has shot way up into gangbusters territory. Squirrels (and birds) are not cheap dates.

At NO appointed time, I walk out on my deck and begin throwing the food around…. Boom, (and I do mean I an instantaneous “boom”), a little furry head (or two, or three) pops up under the bottom deck railing. I look off to my left and see squirrels running on branches to cross the creek, climbing my fence, and heading toward the deck. I’m suddenly a squirrel magnet (and it feels great!) Who doesn’t want to be the center of such attention?  I AM SEEN! 😉

Is there a secret squirrel whistle indicating “the sucker’s out on her deck?” I have no idea, but it never ceases to amaze me, seeing all these little furry bodies, crossing the river Jordan, heading for the smorgasbord. At-any-time-of-day.

While they’re chowing down and jockeying for territory on the deck (often not being in the least bit collegial with each other), I feel captivated watching them. And watching them, and watching them…

And then along comes my inner critic, well nourished by a culture that says “you’re not being productive!” (You’ve got one, too? I suspect there’s no shortage of inner critics in our western populace.) Let’s see, I could be getting my checkbook up-to-date, writing the great American novel about fill-in-the-blank, or OMG, folding the laundry that came out of the dryer two days ago!  Don’t want to. Nope. I’m in thrall to the squirrels. Doesn’t a healthy dose of being enthralled count? It feels so good.

Oh gosh, my inner critic is just having a ball with me right now. Lazy, unproductive! Etc. Etc.

STOP! STOP! I have proof! Research has shown that human-animal interactions REDUCE the stress hormone, cortisol, and increase levels of the feel-good hormone oxytocin. Why the heck do you think people watched SO many cute YouTube animal videos during the pandemic. Huh? It’s great medicine. Why don’t you take off your boxing gloves, Ms. Inner Critic, watch the squirrels with me and relax. (If anybody needs relaxing, it’s my inner critic.😉)

Picture Jan and her inner critic, walking hand-in-hand, off into the sunset…