Chess and Squirrels

(A view of part of my backyard and one of my little friends, with a peanut in its mouth, September, 2006).

Since the last of my three dogs went to the Happy Hunting Grounds in April 2004, I no longer have any "official" pets. However, I live in a semi-suburban area where the yards are large, there is still open green space, and there is lots of wildlife, including deer that on occasion forage down from a county park a few miles away.

This morning while I was standing at the kitchen sink doing dishes and looking out at the back yard (which is in need of a good house cleaning, tsk tsk), a young robin suddenly appeared and settled on a branch on the giant Chinese Elm that towers over the northwest side of my house – a scant 15 feet away from me. The robin wasn’t aware of me, hidden, as I was, by the window, but I could clearly see him and was just amazed at how loudly he could sing when he opened his beak and burst into song. It lasted for about a minute, and I was transfixed, and so glad it’s finally spring here, after a long nasty winter and budget-breaking heating bills. How can such a small creature (he can’t weigh any more than a 3-4 ounces) make such a voluminous yet melodious sound?

Creatures such as that robin, the yellow finch and his mate who visited the white bird bath this morning (you can see it in the photo), the cardinals, blue jays, red-winged blackbirds, crows, and various species of sparrows – and the skunks, the bold raccoons, the possums – and lots of other critters, all bring a sense of wonderment and joy to me.

I now have "pet" squirrels and chipmunks. Oh, those chipmunks are fearless and bold, they are! They are the favorite of Isis and Michelle who have visited each of the past two summers, and will be here again for a week in July – I can hardly wait to see my dear "sister" and my honorary niece again. How amazed they were when, 2 summers ago on their first visit here during the lay-over before and after our trip to New York City, the chipmunks would boldly come right up on to the deck in order to fetch the peanuts we tossed to them – within inches, sometimes, of our feet. How we laughed at them as they would stuff peanut after peanut into seemingly endlessly expanding cheeks, just like "Chip and Dale" the cartoon chipmunks – they seemed likely to explode, but as far as I know, not one of them did!

My favorite critters are the squirrels. I am probably single-handedly responsible for the explosion of squirrels in the neighborhood since I started my feeding program (peanuts and sunflower seeds) shortly before Tasha died in April 2004. This February, as I was walking home one evening, I counted 13 nests in the trees within a block of my house. The bare branches made it easy to see them. When my dogs were in their hey-days, no self-respecting squirrel would venture within the fenced confines of my yard; but as the dogs aged and then passed away one by one, it was as if those critters were watching and waiting, and even laughing at the dogs as they laid in the sun those last couple of years, mostly blind and far too old to move fast enough to give chase even if they could have seen the critters! Spencer died in May, 1999; Jocques died in January, 2001, and Tasha, as noted earlier, in April, 2004.

Well, what can I say? My heart was broken three times, and I will never own another pet. But feeding the wildlife is a form of substitute for that special connection between woman and nature, and the squirrels have been very obliging. A few weeks ago, one of my sisters was absolutely amazed when we stepped out onto the deck and I said "watch this." I made my special "squirrel smoochy" noise and in less than 30 seconds three squirrels ran from different directions toward the deck where they expected to – and did- receive a reward of several salted peanuts in the shell. "How did you do that?" she wanted to know. LOL!

I haven’t yet succeeded in getting any of them to eat out of my hand. In the inner rings of the city, where the houses are closely bunched together on 30-foot wide lots and often doubled-up, back to back with a small patch in between on 120-foot long lots, the squirrels aren’t afraid of people. I used to live next store to a fellow who would "call" "his" squirrel; the squirrel would come running down the narrow concrete walkway between our two houses, up his leg and settle on his shoulder, where the young man would feed him treats. I wasn’t quite brave enough to let a flea-infested squirrel crawl up on my shoulder, but several mornings a week I would put peanuts out on a stone ledge beneath my kitchen window and then watch the squirrel eat from inside my kitchen as I drank my morning coffee.

"My" squirrels here are feeling pretty comfortable these days. Once a month the ladies in the "Invest Wise" investment club meet at my home, and they never fail to be amused by the antics of the squirrels coming up to the glass patio door and peering into the kitchen dinette where we hold our meetings. I don’t know if they can actually see us, but we sure see them – "oh look", the ladies say almost in unison – they’re coming for more peanuts, Jan."

So, you’re asking, what the heck does any of this have to do with chess? Well – I’ll tell you – I don’t know. I once started an article when I'd had one too many glasses of wine about "Squirrels and Chess" ( I didn’t get very far, I was laughing too hard); the next morning and ever since I have no idea what I was going to write – but it sure seemed like a brilliant idea at the time :) I’m sure I’ve got the start of an absolutely brilliant article about squirrels and chess saved on this hard-drive – somewhere – but I’ve yet to find it. I can’t remember what I saved it under…

Just a few days ago dondelion, Isis and I were having an email chat, as we tend to do – this time, about mazes, labyrinths, crop-circles and Morris dancers. Dondelion sent me this little ditty:

"Morris Dancers! They are verry cool... hobby horses and raggish
costumes.... special steps - tied in with troubadours and mystery plays...

"Plot element?? Jan Xena opens her back door to do yard work and finds squirrels dancing around a miniature crop circle. She puts down her rake and takes out her magic compass and some string. And that is how the game of twenty squirrels was invented…"

JanXena and her magic compass is another story – I’ll save that for another day.