Poppy and CC's Corner

In a back yard far, far away in the North of the Carolinas,

One man struggled to defeat the relentless squirrel army.

Every defense was defeated by the squirrels shortly after it was introduced,
The ingenius ardillas always found a way to overcome his ever changing strategy,

Then finally one day, one-day he created a new concept and perfected it. Would the war finally be over?

Rex de la Ardilla a.k.a. 'King of the tree rats' (Conivum pestemus supremus)

At the end of the last episode, I discovered that the baffle on the deck hanger was not only ineffective, it was aiding and abetting the squirrels in reaching the bird feeder. They simply crawled over it (or jumped over it) and then used it for a platform to reach the bird feeder. The problem was that it was stable and needed to be free-wheeling on the rod. I couldn't fix that so I removed it and tried a new concept. I found a cardboard tube like you pull from the center of wrapping paper and slipped it over the rod to prevent them from being able to climb out on the hanger. The concept worked at first as the tube started to spin as they put their weight on the tube. After a few hilarious attempts, they found a work around. I got a couple of great laughs as I watched one master the first tube and then lose control as he moved to the second tube. He literally hung on to the cardboard for two full turns, like clinging on to a giant pinwheel spinning, before he was unceremoniously ejected for a twelve feet drop to the ground. His flight resembled someone being pushed from an airplane without a parachute, but they always land on their feet. For you animal rights lovers, twelve feet drops don't bother squirrels, they land on their feet and scamper to the nearest tree. They are truly intrepid little rodents.

The quest begins.

Checking out the two cardboard rollers

Whoa, those things are not stable

Safe back on solid footing

There must be a way, I'll try again

Why won't that thing hold still?

Oh Man here I go again

Third time has to 'the charm'

"Oh I see, if I put all my weight on it and push my claws into it, it won't spin"

Dang, there is another tube above the first one

Whoa! that one spins too- better bail out while I can

Well OK I can do this- almost made it last time

Clamp hard and get a good grip

"Piece of cake" just scootch up to the next one and I'm home free

Help! I'm spinning and I can't stay on. 3 complete revolutions before he was spun to the ground 12' below. I laughed till I cried.

It was obvious to me that the cardboard was not adequate for an all weather defense, so I went to Lowe's and Home Depot and finally decided to replace the cardboard with two sections of 4" PVC pipe. Once they were there they provided the same protection and the ardillas were not able to climb out on the deck hook. Then it became apparent to the squirrels that they could just leap from the top rail of the deck and land directly on the feeder. I caught a few in the act and burst out on the deck just as they landed on the feeder. They had nowhere to go, so they dropped to the ground 12' below.

I put up a section of wire closet hanger shelving upright on the back edge of the deck, so they could not use the top rail as a launching pad. Their next move was to climb onto a nearby hanging basket, get down inside the plants and leap to the feeder. I know that they have plenty of natural food, but they seem obsessed with having to get on the feeder. I moved the hanging plant hooks so they would be too far to leap onto the feeder. Then they started leaping from the top rail beyond the closet shelving. Their obsession drives them to extreme attempts that are hazardous to their health. I found additional shelving sections and extended the wings to a point that the intrepid little beggars won't attempt a leap.

Cheryl didn't like the looks of the big 4" pipe so we went back to Home Depot and she bought a dozen 3" PVC couplers that are 3" long. This creates an even more difficult environment for the enemy to overcome. Every 3" they have a new joint that spins differently than the previous one. This has proved highly effective (along with the other methods described) for the past three weeks. No invaders have made it to the promised land since then. It is not pretty and it obscures our view of the birds, but it is effective.

And the war was finally over, the tree rats defeated, victory at last, I thought..

4" diameter PVC with original closet shelve

I can do it

Oops

Past the first one

Started losing it as he put the back feet onto the top one

Replaced the big PVC with smaller diameter and length. None have used this route .

This was effective for about two weeks and then they learned to balance on top of the wire and leap directly onto the feeder. Alas, I fear I must resort to the ultimate weapon that could run them away. Since the conniving, ingenious little tree rats always discover a way to overcome my clever defense of the bird feeders, I shall have to resort to DEFCON-4 as a final act of war. (Of course this will require the approval of the animal rights champion in my home who currently does not approve of this cruel and unusual punishment) But thanks for the explosives Darren.

DEFCON 4

Stay tuned for episode III.

Last of the Litter

"GOOD BYE BILLY"

His full name was William Wallace Warbritton, but we called him Billy. He was the last of three born in the litter. Billy and Susie had to be delivered by Cesarean Section because the first puppy was too large, stillborn, and blocked the birth canal. Billy was not always the smartest of our brood, but he was always a strong, healthy, athletic specimen of the yorkie tribe. His most enduring quality was his shy, quiet, devout loyalty to his human caregivers and to his immediate canine family.

Sweet Billy

Cheryl couldn’t bear to break up the family so we kept all four. His mother Cara (Carolina Tiger Lily) the first of our yorkies, was born October 10, 1994 and was purchased for Angela just after we married 22 years ago.

Angela with puppy Carolina Tiger Lily (Cara)

Angela started college in 1998, so Cara remained with Cheryl and I. Within a few years, Angela bought herself another yorkie, Starlet, aka “Star Baby”, "Little Princess" and “Little Girl”.

Starlet in her fur coat at Christmas 2002

Then, under the oddest of circumstances we were offered a male puppy yorkie from Texas when Cara was eight years old. We called him Cowboy since he was from Texas, and when we first got him he was so anxious he chewed on the kitchen table, chair rails and baseboards. However, there was a moment of eye to eye love and trust connection, and after that he was the best dog anyone could ever want. He also envisioned himself as a “stud muffin” to Cara even though he was only ten months old. We usually kept them under close supervision but Cheryl wasn’t concerned because Cara was eight years old and thought past puppy bearing. Actually, Cowboy was physically full-grown and knew exactly what he was supposed to do; and he did it. On Thanksgiving night while they were outside the magic happened and on January 19th, 2003 the puppies were born. Cowboy was a year old and Cara was eight and a half. Of note, Cara did not like Cowboy until that night of magic and after that she LOVED Cowboy; also, we were concerned that he might not like the puppies, but he proved to be a really good daddy dog.

Cara loved Cowboy

Cowboy loved Cara

Momma with her newborns 9 days old

Daddy checking on the pups - one month old.

Twins need a little space between them

Billy slept like this most of his life

Billy was very shy and a little slow, but he was strong and he soon outgrew his daddy. Never one to play or chase toys or fetch balls, he just observed the others. From his earliest days, he just wanted to be loved, he wanted to be held, to be scratched and petted. He never seemed to get his share of attention while competing with the rest of the family. Billy always acquiesced to all the other dogs except Susie even though he was the largest.

We moved to a home in the county with no fence and we had to walk all four dogs on leases. Shortly after, Angela brought “Star” to live wih us “for a little while” until she got settled in Florida. We still have her and she is the sole survivor. For a time we had to walk five dogs twice a day.

Within a couple of years, sweet little Cara died in Cheryl’s arms, at the age of eleven, as we sped to the closest emergency vet. The following day my son David was there and he helped me dig the grave as we buried her in a clearing of the trees in the back yard. We conducted a very heartfelt goodbye and a poignant farewell. Cheryl and I couldn’t talk as tears streamed down our faces. Cheryl remembers seeing her tears shining in the bright sunlight as they fell. It was good that we had a Baptist preacher there to take over and speak a beautiful farewell to the queen of our little brood.

The four little dogs left were a constant source of entertainment when Cheryl took them for a walk. Holding two leashes in each hand, she was OK until one of them spotted another dog, a child, a bike, or a deer and then all mayhem broke out. I watched one morning as all four of them started running in circles and barking vigorously. Cheryl was in the middle and she was soon totally enveloped in leases. She almost fell over as they reached the end of their leashes and continued jumping, barking and nipping at her ankles. She called me to help because she was wrapped up tight and couldn’t move. I was laughing so hard I couldn’t undo the wrap job for a couple of minutes. Cheryl was not amused at the time. Billy never started the barking but he always picked up the rally and took it to a new high pitch.

Two in one hand and three in the other

And then the leashes get tangled

A little help is always appreciated

Rain, sleet, or snow they had to be walked

When I walked them in the afternoons they would always want to stop at the corner of the yard under the shade of a large willow oak. Cowboy and Susie would watch intently for pedestrians or cars driving by. Star and Billy would wander aimlessly and act as if they were extraordinarily bored. One morning as I was walking them, Billy committed a costly error. He slipped out of the harness and before I could grab him he ran for the neighbors yard. Now the next door neighbor had two large dogs (an Australian Shepherd and an Akia) contained with an invisible fence. Billy of course thought he could outrun the other dogs and ran straight for them, unheeded by the electric fence because he had no collar. The Australian Shepherd must have thought that he was a large rat and he quickly ran him down. He grabbed Billy around the middle and tossed him ten feet into the air. I was sure that he had killed him because I watched him do a flip in the air on his way down. But Billy landed on his feet and immediately scampered out of the yard back to where I was waiting and calling for him. I couldn’t chase after him because I was holding the other three leashes. He came up to me with eyes as large as saucers and I checked him over. Fortunately he just had a minor tooth mark on his chest, but he learned a life lesson.

Billy shortly after his encounter with the neighbors dogs

Cowboy and Susie perched on Cowboy hill

King of the hill

Little Girl and Susie on Cowboy hill

Billy's attackers waiting for one of ours to stray into their yard.

We moved back to the city and we didn’t have to walk them because we had a fence. Within a year we lost Cowboy at age eleven, and again, as Cheryl held him in her arms. We buried him in the yard by the back fence. I dug the grave for Cowboy and we stood and grieved but we could not bear to say goodbye to that sweet, special boy; I just hope he knew how much we loved him. Within a couple of years Cheryl held Susie into the wee hours of the morning as she died in the arms of love. I dug her grave next to Cowboy’s and we again attempted to show our respects; we failed again though we both managed to tell her how much she was loved. We now have a pet cemetery in our back yard.

Susie2Cutie

Life with Billy and Star has had its challenges as these two older dogs started having health problems. I looked into Billy’s sorrowful eyes and I could see the great loss for his twin Susie. Billy became highly sensitive to any situation and he quickly jumped at any opportunity to receive affection from either of us. For the past two years we have waited to see which would outlive the other. Throughout the past winter we watched as both dogs' health deteriorated and then this spring it became apparent that Billy would be next in line. He started having mini-seizures causing him to lose control of all four legs at once, though he would quickly recover when we picked him up and loved on him. Finally, on Friday evening before Mothers Day, Cheryl held him until just after midnight and then put him in his bed. The next morning we found him on the kitchen floor near his bed. Peaceful and free from the pain and discomfort he had been suffering.

His interment was perhaps the most difficult of all physically as I am suffering from low back and hip pain and Cheryl had to help me dig the grave. We were both exhausted by the time we finished digging his spot next to Susie in the back yard. We held a brief ceremony to honor our little friend and assured him that we had always loved him, though we again became emotional. Billy was sensitive, quirky, and demanding of your constant attention, but totally worth it.

We like to think that we were privileged to have loved and cared for these five little scamps. They made us laugh; they made us cry; they have been a constant source of distraction. Onery and cantankerous as they were, we cared for each in their own special way. We watched each of them as they grew and become totally loyal to us; then slowly aging and losing that spark that made them unique, and then it claimed their lives. We were favored to share their time on this earth, and we hope that God has made a way for those little dogs to share our time in Heaven.

Billy was the last of his family and he lived the longest of them in doggy years, as he lived to the age of 98. In doggy years, Cara died at age 77, Cowboy at 77, Susie at 77. Darren asked me if I was going to get another dog and I said, “No, I’m really tired of burying them”. Cheryl and I chuckled as she remarked, “Star will probably bury us”. Star is 105 in doggy years, blind and half deaf, but still fighting.

Favorite memories from some who were fond of our little family.