And We Thought It Was A Birdhouse!

All this time we thought it was a birdhouse and here it was a house for squirrels!

When we built the birdhouse last year it ended up being a bit too late for tenants that spring. We were keeping our eye on it this Spring but hadn’t seen any action other than the occasion visit from one of our resident squirrels.

However, we were having tea on the patio the other day when we heard a noise and looked up and saw a small head poke out of one of the windows:

And I Thought It Was A Birdhouse!

Thinking that it was just one of the regulars we didn’t pay much attention to it other than to comment that this was probably the reason why no birds were interested in taking up housekeeping. It wasn’t long after that we seen two of these little guys (or gals) flitting about:

And I Thought It Was A Birdhouse!

Noting their small size we realized that these were young ‘uns and not our regulars. This was quickly confirmed when the third fellow appeared:

And I Thought It Was A Birdhouse!
And I Thought It Was A Birdhouse!

Then, when the fourth one appeared we knew we had a litter. 🙂

And I Thought It Was A Birdhouse!
And I Thought It Was A Birdhouse!
And I Thought It Was A Birdhouse!

Now, although we refer to these furry little fellows as ‘rat bastards’ we both enjoy their antics throughout the year. Except of course when they chewed holes in a couple of our sheets on the clothes line and actually severed a couple of the clothes line cords (hence the above name 🙂 ). Likewise, we enjoyed watching these young ones play in the sun, venturing further each day. Within a week they were gone, off on their own.

Guess we’ll have to build on an addition next year. 🙂

Back to the shop…

2 replies on “And We Thought It Was A Birdhouse!“

  • Bob Easton

    “Within a week they were gone,” probably because they no longer fit through the holes. … which begs the question of how the parenting happened. hmmmm?

    Hole sizes for bird house seem to be very critical in inviting the desired creatures. No, I don’t know the secret codes.

    I’m with your wife calling then “rat bastards.” Now those similar little creatures with the racing stripes are another story.


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