And now there’s a squirrel orgy.
This differs from the usual raunchy rodent romp in one key element. There’s a branch that hangs suspected over my deck, which was originally rather more horizontal, but which split in half where it meets the tree during a storm some months back. It’s too firmly attached to get down–we tried–so it dangles there, swaying madly in every breeze. It’s a full sized, many-splitting branch full of long whippy twigs and whatnot, with the end, where the thinnest twigs are, perhaps six feet above the deck.
A male squirrel was doing the usual roll-and-crawl over a female squirrel, and she was not really happy with it, so she jumped onto the thin twigs of this branch, perhaps thinking that he wouldn’t follow. Foolish female squirrel! I coulda told her better. The male was not even remotely daunted, and leapt onto the thin branches. Branch swaying madly with their movements, they careened around, clinging to twigs much too small to balance on, falling off, catching themselves, swarming back up, usually upside down, with the male trying to groom the female into acceptance and the female trying to shove him off the branch.
Then another male gets the whiff of “Ooh! Receptive female!” and comes running. And HE leaps onto the branch.
At this point, it resembles an orgy being attempted in the rigging of a ship designed by Dali. The female is now shoving two of them, they’re alternating between trying to groom her and trying to kick each other’s tails. It’s like a writhing ball of stubby grey snakes, as they all fight for balance, lose it, fall, catch themselves with their feet, come charging back (for a value of “charging” that involves an abortive leap, some determined inching, and some slithering that looks like a miniature anaconda climbing a rope ladder) etc.
Then a third male shows up.
The other two are having none of this. He’s on the tree trunk making “Hey, baby!” noises, and the two original males turn and lunge at him. No ogling from the tree trunk! You don’t want to make an idiot of yourself on this twiggy jungle gym, you don’t get any nookie! So they’re chasing him around the tree trunk four or five times and off, while the bereft female clings to her slender twig and tries to catch her breath, swaying in a manner that makes me practically seasick to watch. But lo! Back they come, our two Casanovas, and you can practically see the female squirrel roll her eyes, and the ball of squirrel attempted lovin’/fightin’ is remade.
I don’t think either of the males ever did succeed, but they did manage to wear themselver out pretty good…