The new cedar feeder is an attractive feeder. We fill it with seed (not thistle) and hang it from the double hangar. We sit back and enjoy the sparrows, juncos, and even the noisy blackbirds and such. Hubby in the meantime is mulling over what to do when the squirrels find it. And they do. In record time. Soon we have every squirrel within a 2 mile radius partying in our backyard. The feeder is emptied in record time and fat little squirrels are running around and noisily complaining for more. Only when the seed runs out do they start chasing each other off. Squirrels are supposed to be territorial. I guess only when the food is scarce.
So hubby takes the feeder down and off to the workroom he goes. I hear him hammering away and when he comes back up, he has created a wooden "lid" for the top of the feeder of which he has nailed 4 inch long nails through the "lid" which stick straight up through it into the air like a bed of nails. The "lid" has a hole drilled into it, which fits over the hanger of the feeder, so it just sits on top of the actual lid. I protest. I don't want a gazillion squirrels raiding the feeder, but I don't want to kill the little buggers. Also I do not want to wake up to find impaled squirrels on the feeder.
Hubby assures me that it will only be a deterent and they are smart enough not to let themselves get hurt. I relunctantly allow it (for 2 days only, I insist) to see what happens. Secretly I'm hoping it doesn't work, because not only does it look like a medival torture contraption, but it's really ugly too.
So we sit back and watch, me quite skeptical and watching for the first sign of a squirrel getting hurt. The squirrels hang from the tree limb, checking it out. One paw comes down and touches a nail or two but they don't let themselves down on the lid. Hubby feels vindicated, smiles smuggly. It works for a bit and then I notice that one particularly ingenious squirrel figures out how to lift the lid and slip under it. From there he comfortably lies across the flat lid and proceeds to try to empty out the feeder.
Cursing and yelling hubby takes the feeder down and goes off to the workroom. What next, I wonder.
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