DÚLRA’S brilliant gift from Santa – a Birdfy feeder with built-in camera – isn’t proving as entertaining and educational as he had hoped.
And it’s because the latest visitor seems to have dreams of being a movie star and has taken over the camera.
This squirrel is the only thing that appears on the live-feed app on Dúlra's phone.
It plants itself on the feeder and takes its time munching its way through the sunflower hearts. The only time the garden robin gets a look-in is first thing in the morning – obviously the well-fed squirrel enjoys a lie-in – and for a few moments last thing at night when the grey invader finally heads back to whatever place it calls home.
The problem is that you get an alert every time there is movement at the feeder and so Dúlra jumps to his phone in expectation of a beautiful blue tit or maybe even a rare blackcap – only to inevitably see that damned squirrel.
If you’re home you can just check the feeder through the window and the only bright spark was when the squatting squirrel was chased by a cat, which Dúlra was cheering on enthusiastically. Of course, the tragedy of that scene is that both are invasive animals introduced by people. If anything, the cat is even more detrimental to wildlife, its superior stalking powers giving it an advantage over Irish bids that they just can’t counter.
The birds – many of whom already face almost insurmountable odds to survive our winter – are literally there for the taking.
But at least the cat isn’t eating the sunflower hearts.
And so what to do about that squirrel who has not only taken over the feeder but the camera too? It’s said that birds don’t taste spiciness like we do – but mammals do. And so if you mix the hottest cayenne pepper through the sunflower hearts before filling the feeder the squirrel’s head will explode – not literally of course. And the wee robin will get its feeder back. Dúlra has just done that and filled the new feeder again. He just can’t wait for the next alert on his phone!
•Dúlra was getting coal for the fire the other day and when he went out to the garage to fill the bucket he had a flashback that made him laugh out loud.
It was a memory of a famous old family terrier, Rebel, that we all still talk fondly about decades later.
Every so often after one of the brothers or sisters was picked to be the unfortunate one to get a shovel of coal from the coalshed in the back yard on a freezing winter’s evening – Dúlra was still too young to carry it – you'd hear a terrified scream piercing the night air. And seconds later the ashen-faced sister or brother would run into the living room with a tale of sheer terror. On opening the coalshed door and pushing in the shovel, a pair of shining eyes would appear out of the darkness.
It was like a creature from the deep, a Lough Ness monster of the coal. And that was Rebel sleeping under the coal.
“Somebody’s left that coalshed door open again and Rebel’s got in. He scared the living daylights out of me,” the victim would say.
One of us would head out the back and shoo Rebel out of the pitch-dark shed and direct him back next door, to the adjoining shed where he slept on a blanket. He was a sight – as black as soot from head to toe. The next day one of us would have to take him up Black Mountain and throw him into a lake to get him clean!
Dúlra has no idea why Rebel liked to sneak into the coalshed and bury himself among the lumps of coal. Was it for heat?
Camouflage? Or maybe, just maybe, that brilliant wee terrier just liked to scare the living daylights out of us!
• If you’ve seen or photographed anything interesting, or have any nature questions, you can text Dúlra on 07801 414804.Dúlra on 07801 414804.
