The tomatoes are nibbled, the sunflowers ravaged, but how can I maintain a serious territorial presence in the front garden?
People sometimes ask me whatever happened to my enemy, the squirrel. “He moved on,” I say, in a tone that sounds a bit like: “I won”. The squirrel made a daily habit of pulling the bird feeders off their hooks to let them smash open on the ground. He stole produce from my vegetable patch and taunted me with it, eating it front of me. If I ignored the taunting he would walk up to my office door and tap on the glass.
But he hasn’t been anywhere near my office since October; I never hear him running across the roof any more, or spot him digging holes in the lawn. It could be because the cat has seen him off. Or it could be because the overhanging tree he formerly used as his base of operations was cut down by the neighbours.
