Author:
I am an Eastern Gray Squirrel. This is my story of being bounced from place to place, while trying to ready a spot in this world for my soon-to-be-born babies.
Humans
Only fifteen more days left. Fifteen days until I give birth to my two offspring. Fifteen days until I can regain my energy back and mingle with other squirrels. This pregnancy hasn’t been easy. Recently, I had to relocate homes when a group of humans discovered that I had been living in the attic of their home. The attic would have been the best place to raise my young for the winter season. Winters in Ohio can be brutally cold. The attic was warm, covered, and dark. There was plenty of space to create a cache of seeds and fruit and lots of insulation to use for bedding. One day, I saw an appetizing walnut seed sitting in the far east corner of the attic. It would’ve added some variety to my winter stash of food. As soon as I touched the seed I was engulfed in metal and springs- I was trapped. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t escape the cage. This is the worst-case scenario as a squirrel or any other small rodent. You fear for your life, and never know what to expect from some humans. For hours, I sat in the dark shivering and starving. It wasn’t until the next day that I saw some light flickering in the distance and heard a noise. A human was coming. My heart started beating faster and faster. I could tell the human was getting closer. I laid still hoping they wouldn’t see me. This usually works with other predators, but humans are not like most predators. They are more intelligent and persistent, and there are thousands of them where I live. The cage was moving. I was being taken out of the attic, my home for the last several months. Unexpectedly, I was placed into the trunk of the car. About 30 minutes later, the humming noise of the car engine shut off and the trunk door opened. It was the same human that had found me in the attic. He set me on the ground and propped the cage door open. Thank goodness. I had no idea where I was, nor did I care. I bolted straight ahead with no intention of looking back. Scanning the area, I saw a large Oak tree nearby that was high enough from the ground to build a nest in. I scurried up the tree trunk and sat on a branch about 30 to 40 feet above the ground. I was safe. Catching my breath, I was finally able to calm down enough to gather my thoughts. Realizing where I was, panic set in once again. I was back in hell- I was back in the woods.
The Woods
Starving, cold, and homeless, I set out to find materials to build a nest large enough to hold myself and my offspring. The sun was setting soon. Darkness is no friend to a squirrel, let alone a pregnant one. Coyotes, bobcats and hawks frequent the area all too often. It was for this reason, I had fled to the human homes in the first place. There was no way that I would be able to build a sufficient shelter before the sun set. I needed pine branches, leaves and some moss to get me through the night. While gathering my supplies, I created a mental map of my surroundings. Although I am no stranger to the trees, squirrels always have to be careful when moving into a new home. Tensions are high among rodents during the winter season because the availability of food and livable trees are scarce. In my five years of life, I’ve witnessed many squirrels lose theirs over territorial fights. After about an hour of scurrying around, I had what I needed. I found a sturdy branch in the tree that was large enough for me to build a decent base for my new home. Exhaustion had set in. Curling into a ball, I dozed off for the night.
A-woooooo A-wooooo. There it was. A coyote. The noise that will scare any small animal awake in the middle of the night. It sounded close, maybe ten to fifteen yards away. Thankfully it was just a coyote and not a bobcat. Coyotes are ground hunters. Bobcats are tree hunters. As a squirrel, if I have to be hunted, I would prefer it be by a coyote. The howls continued on for about ten more minutes, then faded off into the wind. The woods were quiet again and I fell back asleep.
I woke up with the sun. It was windy today, and my tree was swaying. Even though I could’ve used several more hours of sleep, I climbed down the trunk and returned to the small creek I discovered the day prior. There was an abundance of moss and sticks by the creek. They were the perfect size for my nest base and I could easily mold them into the circular shape I needed. Building nests can be difficult. Usually by this time of year squirrels already have their nests created and food stored. The winter is a beast in the Ohio woodlands. The moss can become too soggy from the snow and the sticks too rigid from the freezing temperatures making it hard to build a sturdy home. It’s taken me at least 3 years to perfect my nest building skills, but I’ve never worked in the winter. Six hours later and my nest was complete. Yet again, I was exhausted. I’ve gained about eight ounces since becoming pregnant and the weight takes a toll on my body during the days. I needed food. I felt malnourished and weak. It was time to rebuild my cache for the winter before my hibernation period set in. Flicking my tail and using my sense of smell, I jumped from tree to tree in search of some sustenance. I could smell a walnut tree in the distance. I kept following the scent, getting closer and closer. Before I knew it, I was back in town. Humans were everywhere. Cars were everywhere. I was back in the city.
The City
The walnut scent led me back to the city, a college campus to be exact. The foot traffic was heavy here and I felt heartbeat racing once again. There were trees here, but not the walnut one I was searching for. The humans had a lot of Oak, Burr, and Willow trees here. I lost track of the walnut scent and had to forage for other food. There were large green boxes located all over the campus. They were filled with trash, mostly paper and half eaten food. I could smell the urine of raccoons that had recently visited the boxes. Raccoons are deadly to a squirrel. They are tough and feisty, especially when it comes to their food. I searched from box to box in hopes of finding edible scraps of food. I made sure not to spend too much time at any one box to reduce the risk of running into other “visitors.” In the second box, I found bits of chicken and fruit. Strategically placing the scraps into my cheeks, I gathered as much as I could and left. I had been away from my nest for too long, and the sun was starting to set again. My nest wasn’t too far. I had to cross a couple of streets and go past the creek to get to it. Dodging tires and dogs, I scurried across the busy streets of the campus. I jumped from bench to bench and even traveled along the concrete structures that were occupied by humans bundled up in their winter coats.
Back at the tree, I emptied my cheeks and placed my bundle of food into the hole of my tree trunk. I ate a piece of the cantaloupe and watched the sun set. With a full belly and warm nest, I was at ease for the first time since arriving in the woods. I kept this routine for about ten more days. I needed to have enough food stored up to last me until the spring. Once my pups are born, I won’t be able to leave the nest as often because they will need my body warmth and milk. Four days prior to giving birth, my food cache had reached full capacity. It was full of a variety of foods, more than what I had in the attic even. There was no need for me to leave my nest anymore. I nestled in and waited for the arrival of my pups.
Offspring
It was time. The stomach pain was a terror. No matter how much moss I padded my nest with, I couldn’t get comfortable. Thankfully, it was over just as fast as it had started. I gave birth to two, hairless pups. Their black, beady eyes were closed, and they lay asleep next to me. Every hour they would drink my milk, then fall back into a deep slumber. The weather was frigid, but we were still warm. For the next several months, we stayed in our nest. I would feed from my cache while my pups fed from me. Over the course of the next nine months, I fed my young and raised them. Teaching them how to climb, forage and communicate. I taught them the ways of a squirrel and how to stay safe in the woods and avoid human life. Life was easier now. Life was as it should be for an Eastern Gray squirrel.
Only fifteen more days left. Fifteen days until I give birth to my two offspring. Fifteen days until I can regain my energy back and mingle with other squirrels. This pregnancy hasn’t been easy. Recently, I had to relocate homes when a group of humans discovered that I had been living in the attic of their home. The attic would have been the best place to raise my young for the winter season. Winters in Ohio can be brutally cold. The attic was warm, covered, and dark. There was plenty of space to create a cache of seeds and fruit and lots of insulation to use for bedding. One day, I saw an appetizing walnut seed sitting in the far east corner of the attic. It would’ve added some variety to my winter stash of food. As soon as I touched the seed I was engulfed in metal and springs- I was trapped. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t escape the cage. This is the worst-case scenario as a squirrel or any other small rodent. You fear for your life, and never know what to expect from some humans. For hours, I sat in the dark shivering and starving. It wasn’t until the next day that I saw some light flickering in the distance and heard a noise. A human was coming. My heart started beating faster and faster. I could tell the human was getting closer. I laid still hoping they wouldn’t see me. This usually works with other predators, but humans are not like most predators. They are more intelligent and persistent, and there are thousands of them where I live. The cage was moving. I was being taken out of the attic, my home for the last several months. Unexpectedly, I was placed into the trunk of the car. About 30 minutes later, the humming noise of the car engine shut off and the trunk door opened. It was the same human that had found me in the attic. He set me on the ground and propped the cage door open. Thank goodness. I had no idea where I was, nor did I care. I bolted straight ahead with no intention of looking back. Scanning the area, I saw a large Oak tree nearby that was high enough from the ground to build a nest in. I scurried up the tree trunk and sat on a branch about 30 to 40 feet above the ground. I was safe. Catching my breath, I was finally able to calm down enough to gather my thoughts. Realizing where I was, panic set in once again. I was back in hell- I was back in the woods.
The Woods
Starving, cold, and homeless, I set out to find materials to build a nest large enough to hold myself and my offspring. The sun was setting soon. Darkness is no friend to a squirrel, let alone a pregnant one. Coyotes, bobcats and hawks frequent the area all too often. It was for this reason, I had fled to the human homes in the first place. There was no way that I would be able to build a sufficient shelter before the sun set. I needed pine branches, leaves and some moss to get me through the night. While gathering my supplies, I created a mental map of my surroundings. Although I am no stranger to the trees, squirrels always have to be careful when moving into a new home. Tensions are high among rodents during the winter season because the availability of food and livable trees are scarce. In my five years of life, I’ve witnessed many squirrels lose theirs over territorial fights. After about an hour of scurrying around, I had what I needed. I found a sturdy branch in the tree that was large enough for me to build a decent base for my new home. Exhaustion had set in. Curling into a ball, I dozed off for the night.
A-woooooo A-wooooo. There it was. A coyote. The noise that will scare any small animal awake in the middle of the night. It sounded close, maybe ten to fifteen yards away. Thankfully it was just a coyote and not a bobcat. Coyotes are ground hunters. Bobcats are tree hunters. As a squirrel, if I have to be hunted, I would prefer it be by a coyote. The howls continued on for about ten more minutes, then faded off into the wind. The woods were quiet again and I fell back asleep.
I woke up with the sun. It was windy today, and my tree was swaying. Even though I could’ve used several more hours of sleep, I climbed down the trunk and returned to the small creek I discovered the day prior. There was an abundance of moss and sticks by the creek. They were the perfect size for my nest base and I could easily mold them into the circular shape I needed. Building nests can be difficult. Usually by this time of year squirrels already have their nests created and food stored. The winter is a beast in the Ohio woodlands. The moss can become too soggy from the snow and the sticks too rigid from the freezing temperatures making it hard to build a sturdy home. It’s taken me at least 3 years to perfect my nest building skills, but I’ve never worked in the winter. Six hours later and my nest was complete. Yet again, I was exhausted. I’ve gained about eight ounces since becoming pregnant and the weight takes a toll on my body during the days. I needed food. I felt malnourished and weak. It was time to rebuild my cache for the winter before my hibernation period set in. Flicking my tail and using my sense of smell, I jumped from tree to tree in search of some sustenance. I could smell a walnut tree in the distance. I kept following the scent, getting closer and closer. Before I knew it, I was back in town. Humans were everywhere. Cars were everywhere. I was back in the city.
The City
The walnut scent led me back to the city, a college campus to be exact. The foot traffic was heavy here and I felt heartbeat racing once again. There were trees here, but not the walnut one I was searching for. The humans had a lot of Oak, Burr, and Willow trees here. I lost track of the walnut scent and had to forage for other food. There were large green boxes located all over the campus. They were filled with trash, mostly paper and half eaten food. I could smell the urine of raccoons that had recently visited the boxes. Raccoons are deadly to a squirrel. They are tough and feisty, especially when it comes to their food. I searched from box to box in hopes of finding edible scraps of food. I made sure not to spend too much time at any one box to reduce the risk of running into other “visitors.” In the second box, I found bits of chicken and fruit. Strategically placing the scraps into my cheeks, I gathered as much as I could and left. I had been away from my nest for too long, and the sun was starting to set again. My nest wasn’t too far. I had to cross a couple of streets and go past the creek to get to it. Dodging tires and dogs, I scurried across the busy streets of the campus. I jumped from bench to bench and even traveled along the concrete structures that were occupied by humans bundled up in their winter coats.
Back at the tree, I emptied my cheeks and placed my bundle of food into the hole of my tree trunk. I ate a piece of the cantaloupe and watched the sun set. With a full belly and warm nest, I was at ease for the first time since arriving in the woods. I kept this routine for about ten more days. I needed to have enough food stored up to last me until the spring. Once my pups are born, I won’t be able to leave the nest as often because they will need my body warmth and milk. Four days prior to giving birth, my food cache had reached full capacity. It was full of a variety of foods, more than what I had in the attic even. There was no need for me to leave my nest anymore. I nestled in and waited for the arrival of my pups.
Offspring
It was time. The stomach pain was a terror. No matter how much moss I padded my nest with, I couldn’t get comfortable. Thankfully, it was over just as fast as it had started. I gave birth to two, hairless pups. Their black, beady eyes were closed, and they lay asleep next to me. Every hour they would drink my milk, then fall back into a deep slumber. The weather was frigid, but we were still warm. For the next several months, we stayed in our nest. I would feed from my cache while my pups fed from me. Over the course of the next nine months, I fed my young and raised them. Teaching them how to climb, forage and communicate. I taught them the ways of a squirrel and how to stay safe in the woods and avoid human life. Life was easier now. Life was as it should be for an Eastern Gray squirrel.
