Tough being grey in black and white world of reds

The squirrels are misbehaving at Rab’s place and he’s determined to see them off. But in the peace-loving democracy of his garden, Rab concedes defeat to the small and hungry creatures...

Where do you stand on grey squirrels? Oh, I see. You stand on them. Well, that’s not very nice. The poor beasties have had a bad press in recent years, mainly because they’re seen as foreign interlopers who’ve forced out the native and slightly cuter red variety.

I have chased grey squirrels out of the garden in the past, when they’ve filched the food left out for the garden birds, and I have noted a marked insolence in their response. This is intolerable to a man in my position.

Word spread on the bush telegraph that I was not to be trifled with and, for a couple of years, no greys appeared. But one, forgetful of the myths and legends of old, has reappeared recently, and I must say I’ve had to admire his mastery in filching entire lumps of coconut fat from their casings.

I saw him at it with a magpie in close attendance. Magpies also get chased from the garden on account of their being pets of Satan, though I did moderately indulge a very sick one recently.

As I went out to investigate, I found myself inadvertently trapping the squirrel in a narrow space. He clung on to his booty and started to quiver a little, perhaps fearing an imminent clout round the lugs. But seeing that all I was up for was wagging my finger and saying “Who’s been a naughty boy then?”, he soon went on his merry way.

I shall merely try better ways of protecting the birdies’ food in what will become a trial of wits. You titter and, even now, are making your way to the bookie’s to put money on the squirrel. But we’ll see. I didn’t get where I am today by being unable to protect lumps of coconut fat.

On the general matter of grey squirrels and their place in the pantheon of beloved beasts, I must say their press has improved a little, with other factors being cited for the decline of the reds (which are making a comeback in some places). One also reads that reds occasionally eat nestlings so, as is common in the vicious world of nature, there’s more to their cute appearance than meets the eye. Nearly all beasts in the wild are, frankly, scandalous in their behaviour.

I guess we all believe in live and let live, while everything is killing everything else. But it has at least been instructive to see on yon YouTube the wildest animals – even lions and tigers forsooth – becoming kind and friendly when treated well by humans.

Perhaps everything deserves a chance to show that it is suitable for life in a peace-loving democracy.

But the garden is a place under siege at the best of times: cats, hawks, magpies, squirrels, throwers of litter and even one young chap who used to take a shortcut through mine until I escorted him off the premises with an uplifting lecture about what would happen if I caught him at it again.

Ideally, I’d have a moat and some kind of invisible shield round the place. But then nothing could get in, and it would all be duller without the beasties.