Aw man, I just went to look out at the deck, and saw a bunch of dirt around the base of the planters. It couldn’t have been cats trying to do the litterbox thing, I had laid chicken wire over the tops to prevent that. The raccoon? I looked again, and there were two fat black squirrels right in the middle of the planters, caught in the act of digging and nibbling on tulip bulbs. They stopped and stared at me boldy, the little thugs.
I looked at Jake and said, “want to chase the squirrels”? He stared back at me and waved his tail a bit, but all he was interested in was his dinner. I looked at Mousepad, standing beside him, and he too meowed at me, with a “get with it sister, I’m hungry”. So I opened the door and yelled at the squirrels myself. The scampered away reluctantly, their prizes in hand, with a wicked gleam in their eyes.
Still in my pyjamas, I stepped out to survey the damage. Sure enough, there were holes in the planters, daffodils bulbs laying on top where they’d been tossed aside in favour of the tastier tulip bulbs.
Could two squirrels have made off with 75 bulbs in one night? If not, I’m sure they’ll be back to finish the job.
They don’t even have the decency to be cute. Squirrels are supposed to be grey, with white chests, like the ones I grew up with in Montreal. These black squirrels are just plain ugly.
I should have nailed that chicken wire down.