The Story
The pizza plate is the problem. An eastern gray squirrel has reared up on a deck rail, forepaws on a white PVC pipe, and the seed he wants sits on the far side of that red disc.
This is a homemade chickadee feeder, jutting from an upper deck about 12 feet off the ground. Its builder used a painted pizza plate, and his wife suggested the large PVC joints, which spin on the pipe. Collapsible springs and vinyl ties give a chickadee somewhere to stand. The feeder itself gives a squirrel no place to hang on while it eats.
On paper the squirrel should win. Squirrels love seeds, and a feeder is a bonanza of nourishment. They can jump six feet straight up and launch 10 feet or more from a tree, building or railing, and this one is already standing on the railing. The trees behind him look like launch pads too, though they stand much farther away than they appear. Teeth are a further option. Incisors that grow constantly keep squirrels gnawing on bark, wood, plastic or metal.
He considers the jump, a tail almost half his body length hanging over the rail, and by the builder's account he is smart enough to see the catch. There is no place to land.
Others are less careful, a black squirrel among them. Black squirrels are gray squirrels with more pigment, not a separate species, and the feeder treats them the same way. They land, slide straight off the far side and drop about 12 feet to the ground. The thump on the soundtrack is the builder's fist hitting a pillow, and he reports that no squirrels were hurt.
Months after the feeder went up, no squirrel has reached the seed. Peace comes at last for the chickadees, who, the builder says, always prefer to dine alone.
