The Show

When we started looking for a house to purchase, we had a short list of  'must haves'.  Our priorities were:

1) At least this many bedrooms
2) Sunroom for the cats
3) Trees

Maybe not the traditional priority list, with no mention of square footage or neighborhood or even a firm budget, but we aren't real traditional people. Our agent was wonderful, understood us completely, and found just what we wanted. Plus, it had all that other stuff people like, like bathrooms and basements and nearby fire stations and a price we were willing to pay.

The sunroom is on the second level so you can pretend it is a tree house. Or maybe that is just me..and the cats. Just outside the sunroom is a tree, which you kinda need for it to feel like a tree house. I've hung a tube style bird feeder in the tree, which attracts birds like Carolina chickadees, the occasional titmouse, and a cardinal who drops by in the mornings and evenings.  But the most common visitors are squirrels. The squirrels stand on the branch slightly below the feeder, and sort of reach up to get the seeds. (Something like the photo below that I found posted online.) Scares the tar out of me most times. I am sure they are going to plummet to the ground. Yeah, I know, squirrel: the most sure-footed of the backyard beasts. I have issues.

The feeder is known as "The Show".  You know, for the cats. If you sit down next to Scout while she is watching her show, she will tell you all about it. The occasional "really" is all it takes to keep her talking. Jem sits quietly, like a sniper on recon, waiting for the day he can take a shot at a visiting robin. We are hoping that day never comes because I think that deep down inside my sweet little boy lies a bloodthirsty killer waiting to be let loose on unsuspecting wildlife. There was one time right after we moved in that almost tested my theory. A neighbor's intrepid cat got too close to the feeder and Jem's tree stand (aka a table near the sunroom door), prompting sweet Jem to bust through the door, down the stairs, and out into the yard. It took 8 grown men and a velociraptor tranquilizer to bring him down. OK, he got out from under the roof's overhang, out to the back of the property, realized she was gone and he was now in a torrential rainstorm, so he stopped long enough for me to throw a towel on him and scoop him up. (Advice: thick towels are better than bare hands when attempting to hold an angry cat. Of course, just avoiding angry cats is always best.) It was life or death for a minute, though. Jem is a big boy with big claws and no idea what "pulling a punch" means. Thankfully, the rain had encouraged most of the birds and things to be tucked away out of sight.

There is one brave chap who loves to get up in Scout's face and shake his squirrel booty. She gets so mad, but I guess he knows he is safe. Have you ever heard a squirrel laugh? I have. One evening I even thought I heard a "nanny nanny boo boo" coming from the tree, but that may have been the glass of wine I was trying. (Wine is my grown-up test. When I can stand a glass of wine, I will finally be an adult. Wine still makes me gag, so Call of Duty stays.)

As I was working on ideas for the backyard, the thought of moving the feeder out into the yard did flit through my mind. It would eliminate some of the mess from falling sunflower seed shells. (Husks? Shells? Whatever. Leftover bits they don't eat.) Yeah, I could just get the pre-shelled seeds, but those are much more expensive, and my seed bill is already high. Don't want Mr. Financial Man to fuss. Maybe I should just invest in one of those things that hang below the feeder and collects the shells. An initial, one-time investment is better than recurring costs, right? Mr. Financial Man would be proud! But moving the feeder might just prevent the squirrel's homicidal tendencies from surfacing if he isn't quite as close to the house and our tasty electrical lines. Decisions, decisions.



Update: Scout has now weighed in. The show must go on, so the feeder stays. Mr. Financial Man is also Mr. Matchy Matchy Man, who will probably want all the feeders in one location, and all matching colors, so I may have some convincing to do there. Wait, Mr. Matchy Matchy Man is also Scout's Personal Person, and we all know Scout gets what she wants. Problem solved.