Cheeky Little Bugger

Day 199: Neotamias townsendii contributes a whole new layer of meaning to the word "cheeky." This Townsend's Chipmunk has so far eluded my best efforts to trap him for transport over the river and through the woods to a location far enough away that I know he won't be able to find his way back to my bird feeders. I fight this war every year. My record to date was 18 Douglas Squirrels, half a dozen Townsend's, three or four rats with a Bushy-Tailed Wood Rat thrown in for good measure. The squirrels haven't been too bad the last several years, but that's given Townsend the opportunity to proliferate. And they're cagier than the squirrels, canny about the traps and harder to bait. I can't remember what I discovered they liked best, but although he's chowing down on sunflower seeds in the feeder, he isn't enticed by the ones in the Hav-a-Hart live trap. Peanuts don't work. Nor do granola bars. Ritz crackers? Nope. I wish I'd kept notes.

Best Laid Plans

Day 193: "The best laid plans of" Townsend's Chipmunks "and men gang aft a-gley." Forgive me for bastardizing Rabbie Burns, but in this case, it is warranted. You see, yesterday, I discovered that I had not one but two Townsend's Chipmunks, and while one is cute and tolerable (unlike Douglas Squirrels), two is too many. This morning, I set out both Hav-a-Hart traps and baited them with chunks of homemade oatmeal cookie, as close as I could get to a friend's suggestion of "sugary cheap raisin bread." No sooner had I come back in the house than Mr. Townsend's nose picked up the aroma. As I watched from inside, he tried reaching in through the wires at the back of the trap. No, that wasn't going to work. He went around to the side away from me, and although he couldn't reach the cookie, he managed to get a few sunflower seeds for his pains. He got up on top. I went for the camera, hoping to demonstrate the futility of this project on my end, but by the time I returned to the window, Townsend was sitting beside the fence post. "Aha!" I thought. "He's going to go inside!" And he did. And then to my dismay, he started back out again. I captured his exit in this photo, and I figured I'd been outfoxed once again. However, in the time it took me to process the image, he'd gone in again and had tripped the mechanism. Then I checked the other trap which is substantially smaller. To my complete surprise, the second Townsend was secured inside. I'd like to thank my mother for that cookie recipe, but I'm not sure Townsend will share my belated sentiment.

Townsend's Chipmunk

Day 178: Squirrel Wars 2021 have begun. Okay, so Tamias/Neotamias townsendii isn't a squirrel in the common usage of the word, but chipmunks including Townsend's are nonetheless members of the Sciuridae and therefore a "squirrel" in the scientific sense. Perhaps they are not as obnoxious or aggressive as Douglas Squirrel, those destructive grey monsters who eat all the birdseed and nest noisily in the attic (where, I am told, they may chew electrical wires and start house fires), but they still annoy me. At the first sight of a bushy tail in my garden, I break out the "relocation gear," two Hav-a-Hart traps, the smaller of which has only ever captured one chip. I bait them with a variety of things because you never know what the varmints wants for dinner. Tonight, it might be sunflower seeds or tomorrow, raspberries. Oddly, peanut butter is consistently rejected by the local Sciuridae and only draws rodents of another even less pleasant type. It won't be long before Townsend goes for a little ride, but unlike the gangsters of old, he won't be fitted with concrete overshoes. He'll be released into a wide new world where there is plenty of food and a comfortable habitat, and where he's likely to encounter at least one of his numerous kinfolk who have been transported previously in the back of my car.

Feeder Frenzy

 

Day 342: It's a madhouse out there! The hummer feeders out front are being swarmed by beautiful little Anna's, and the feeders (three) in the side yard have a constant stream of Chickadees (both Black-Capped and Chestnut-Backed, Nuthatches and that arrogant little Townsend Chipmunk who simply will NOT go in the live trap no matter what I use for bait. That said, no one seems to mind sharing. 'Dees of both species come together, the Nuthatch (possibly plural) sits side-by-side with either, and if Townsend is in town, the birds take the side opposite him. Sometimes he crawls inside to dine, the birds pecking away at the seeds he scatters out into the tray even as he scrabbles around in the interior. In the calmer moments, the sparrows, towhees, jays and juncos may also visit, although presently, they seem to be content to clean up what falls to the ground. Interim guests may include Red-Winged Blackbirds and Mourning Doves. The photos above were all taken within a ten-minute time frame: top left, Townsend; top right lower, Black-Capped Chickadee and upper, Chestnut-Backed; lower left, Red-Breasted Nuthatch; lower right, Townsend and Nuthatch. Everybody likes black-oil seed, and they're sure there's an unlimited supply at Café Crow.

Townsend's Troublemaker

Day 315: Over the last two or three years, I have been steadily relocating Douglas squirrels to suitable habitats at least two miles and one river crossing from my home. While I seem to have won the Squirrel War, I failed to take into account the fact that I was opening up the area to another pesky little rodent, Townsend's Chipmunk (Neotamias townsendii). These cute little troublemakers aren't destructive like squirrels. They don't get into your attic to gnaw your electric wiring; they live in burrows rather than taking over bird nests and woodpecker holes. Their diet consists of seeds, fruit and fungi rather than the nuts and bird's eggs preferred by squirrels, but they do have a penchant for emptying my bird feeders of black-oil seed, and that, my budget will not abide. I knew I had two and managed to live-trap one in short order using date bits as bait. The second one proved more difficult, and my raspberries were disappearing before they could ripen completely. Eventually, the stripy little critter couldn't resist sampling dried plums, and was rewarded with a trip to a nearby trail system. Within half an hour of having reset the trap ("just in case"), I stood at my window muttering, "It's like trying to dip the ocean dry with a teaspoon!" as a third Townsend's Troublemaker scrabbled up the metal bird-feeder pole after the fresh supply of seed. Mango...I wonder if that's what he's waiting for?

Where Chip Belongs

Day 329: The summer of 2019 seems to have been exceptionally kind to furry wildlife. As previously reported, I've personally observed nine black bears and also an astonishing abundance of marmots, and where I'm used to finding a fairly large number of squirrels and chipmunks, I've never before seen as many young Townsend's chips. Particularly along lower Skyline Trail between its junction with the Lakes and Paradise Glacier trails, baby chips are all over the place, some small enough to make me think they're only a month or so out of the nest, scampering here and there, running up trees to scold me as I pass. It makes me wonder: is this a "boom year," to be followed by a "bust?" Or is it a trend, critters from the lower forest moving up in range as global temperatures rise? Mammals, birds, insects and others follow their food sources; plant ranges are shifting, both geographically and seasonally. Many of the target species I'm monitoring for MeadoWatch are blooming earlier, setting seed earlier, and while this might seem like good news for some critters, it's bad for those who can't adjust or are slower to respond to change. In some cases, a shift in period may initiate a "meltdown," for example, if Pedicularis blooms before its species-specific pollinators arrive, it won't set seed. Even if the pollinators arrive early the following year, there will be fewer plants to support them, and the decline will continue. Our 2019 boom of mammals may tax the food web. Then what? I'm simplifying, yes, but there has to be balance in order to maintain a healthy biota. This isn't a foot-race with only one winner. Humans aren't going to "come out on top." It's a community. We all depend on each other, and we all have to do our share.

Mug Shots

Day 296: I'd heard about the crime problem in rural Pierce County before I took up the badge of Squirrel Enforcer. I knew I had a hard job ahead of me, but I was new to the beat and just a little naive. "Hard" to me meant that I'd still be going home to my wife and kiddies at night, eating three squares and watching a little TV before catchin' a few zzzzzs like a normal person. "Hard" didn't include 24-hour stake-outs and clever perps who could steal the tie right from under your chin without you noticing. No, "hard" meant something entirely different to a rookie who was badge-proud and cocky. I got over being green damn fast when I came up against the Townsend gang, and now I have a reputation with the Force. I also have one with the Townsends, and for the same reason: I bring 'em in. One by one, I bring 'em in, transfer the little creeps to Lewis County and go back to my stake-out. It's a hard job, but somebody's gotta do it. That's me, Trapper the Squirrel Cop. I'm good at it.

Prisoner No. 2

Day 288: For the record, I am learning first-hand what happens when you remove competing species from an area. Last year, I live-trapped one Townsend's Chipmunk, two Bushy-Tailed Wood Rats and FIFTEEN Douglas Squirrels. All but the Wood Rats were relocated to a location across the river and miles from here. Squirrels are notoriously destructive, even to the point of causing house fires by gnawing on the insulation surrounding electrical wiring. That said, chipmunks are kinda cute, but when one of them kept me awake a few nights ago banging around inside the bedroom wall, I decided I'd had enough. The following morning, I set out the Hav-a-Hart trap baited with peanut butter on taco chips. The offering was rejected. I changed strategy and laid out sunflower seeds. Chip thought the ones in the bird feeder were better, but after eating his fill, he climbed down and went in pursuit of a dessert of blueberries. I took the hint and baited the trap with dried cranberries. Half an hour later, I was driving Chip to Mineral and, satisfied that I'd solved my rodent problem. I put the trap away in the garage. The next morning, I had a second chipmunk in the bird feeder. Within an hour or so after baiting the trap with golden raisins, I was making another trip to Mineral with Prisoner No. 2. I was not as confident as I had been after relocating two chips, so I set the trap out again. Bingo! Half an hour later, I was again en route to Mineral, feeling a little like I'd been hired to drive the squirrel-bus. I was three Chips down, but the story hasn't reached its conclusion yet. There's still another one out there, and the little stinker doesn't seem to be impressed with raisins.

Moocher

Day 286: I'm not convinced I have the right scientific name to attach to this critter, but I think it's Tamias townsendii. You can infer what you like with respect to the common name; I'm going with "moocher." The little stinker repeatedly tried to brave his way along the log to see what I was having for lunch at the south end of Packwood Lake, but as soon as I'd shift position or the light would glint on the camera lens, he was off like a shot. Admittedly, what I carry for trail lunch probably wouldn't do him any harm, but I'm conditioned to avoid feeding the wildlife, and it does upset me when I see people offering critters things which humans really shouldn't eat either. You know M&Ms aren't good for you, and those salty chips are going to put your blood pressure out through the roof, to say nothing of the nasty artery-clogging fat they were fried in. What makes you think you're doing wildlife a favour by passing your bad health habits along? Moocher got the lecture instead of food, not that it'll stop him from hitting up the next hiker.

Dipping The Ocean Dry

Day 282: I feel like I'm trying to dip the ocean dry with a teaspoon...one with a hole in it. Okay, this guy is a Townsend's Chipmunk, not a Douglas Squirrel like the nine before him, but he is still a wire-gnawing, insulation-shredding rodent, and a free agent at the moment. All up and down the valley (Park included), we are experiencing an invasion of Rodentia on record levels. Our campground hosts and tent-site occupants are reporting mice in enormous numbers, and I've had them in the house where they've never come before to brave the cats in prior years. I have relocated ten "squirrels" (counting Chip's cousin #10) and know that I have at least two more (one each, "chip" and "doogie"), one of which is residing in the wall of my bedroom. It keeps me awake nights, clawing at the wood. The small investment in a Hav-a-Hart trap is paying big dividends, although I'm getting a little tired of driving over the river and up the hill to release the offenders well away from anyone else's home. Cute though they may be, these critters are the stuff of homeowner's nightmares. Go home, you little varmints! You have thousands of acres of open forest right across the road and don't need to move into my house.

Chip And Bucky

 Day 320: The general rule of thumb is that my blog photos have been taken on the day of posting, however there are those occasions when I want to share something special with my readers like these two wildlife shots from my hike to Lodi Creek yesterday. I missed the bear and the herd of mountain goats, but was able to capture a cute little Townsend's Chipmunk and an elegant Black-tailed Deer buck in full velvet. Sightings such as these are not unusual in Mount Rainier National Park, so if you come to visit us, be sure to carry your camera!

Townsend's Chipmunk, Tamias Townsendii

Day 317: I make no secret of my dislike of squirrels. No homeowner who has ever discovered chewed wiring or damaged shingles would claim to be a fan. No one who has been kept awake nights by scurrying and gnawing noises in the attic would say they enjoyed their company. Their gluttony for birdseed is insatiable, and they can surmount any obstacle from greased poles to hooded feeders to obtain it. Squirrels...the Douglas squirrel of the Pacific Northwest in particular...are obnoxious, destructive little varmints (a word, incidentally, which derives from the term "vermin," and appropriately so).

I first noticed this little fellow a few weeks ago and, not being expert in mammalian critters, I dismissed him as a different breed of squirrel until his unsquirrelly behaviour made me think twice about my cursory identification. For one thing, he didn't raid the bird feeders. He only collected what seeds he could find on the ground, those spilled out by the careless Jays. Instead of bullying the Juncoes and finches, he sat back until they vacated the area to make his forays. Day by day, he grew less cautious around me until I was finally able to make a field-guide portrait. Although I am not fully confident of my analysis, I believe this is Townsend's Chipmunk, one of the most common "chips" in western Washington, but a new species for my yard.

My little friend is very mannerly. He sits with his treat in hand, demurely nibbling black-oil sunflower seeds or bits of corn, one wary eye cocked my direction. He (and I surprise myself in saying this) is a textbook example of "adorable." To date, his only crime...a misdemeanor...is that he has been burying his winter stash in the begonia pot on the front porch. I'd been wondering if I'd potted the tuber in recycled soil when sunflower seedlings came up between the leaves. It wasn't until I found a pile of shells on the step that I caught on.