A Squirrel by Any Other Name is ... Sammy

Dear friends of Togo,

As dawn was breaking this morning and I was finishing my first cup of coffee, I saw the little squirrel begin her descent down the trunk of the live oak outside my study window. She disappeared to the far side of the tree and then reappeared on the bottom side of a curved section of the trunk. And froze, head down.

I shifted in my chair to get a wider view of the yard and to see what prompted the pause. Nothing. The squirrel hung effortlessly for several minutes. Without warning, she released the trunk with her front feet and swung gently attached only by her back toes.

Fearing that I was about to witness the squirrel equivalent of a leap from the Golden Gate Bridge, my mouth dropped open in horror. And then . . .

The squirrel slowly stretched its front legs groundward, spread them perpendicular to her body, and stretched them as wide as she could. And yawned. With that accomplished, she scurried on down the trunk and into the lawn in search of acorns.

Togo once claimed that we had six squirrels living in our yard. Two in the front and, as of this past year, four in the back. Circumstantial evidence leaves the question open however. The two he identified as front yard squirrels could very well be two backyard squirrels who travel the back fences, leap to our roof, and make their way to yet another launching pad into the very tree I was watching this morning. That activity has been captured, for the most part, on security cameras and is solid proof. Plus, there are no observable squirrel’s nests in the front yard nor in our neighbor’s trees on that side of the house. Our backyard triple trunk oak tree supports four squirrel housing units built from sticks and leaves, however.

Togo was quite proud of his squirrel population and would argue against any diminution in numbers and the attendant loss of prestige it would bring. Fortunately, Togo’s probable inflation of his squirrel status was not actionable in a court of law since he didn’t use those numbers to secure loans or to get favorable insurance coverage. Nor was he incorporated in New York. So he dodged a big one there.

In these times of much needed truth and transparency, I would go public with all of this information except for one thing. None of the squirrels have IDs. We’ve checked.

We did explore the possibility of running their paw prints through the National Squirrel Database. I’ve found that squirrels are particularly averse to being captured and having their paws dipped in ink. That explains why, at this time, there is only one set of footprints in the database. And due to the sizable commotion created at the time of their entry, it’s unclear exactly whose footprints were actually recorded.

It seems that Togo didn’t see names as something worthwhile to record in conducting squirrel affairs at Casa de Togo. He called each and every squirrel “Sammy.” We became aware of his lackadaisical naming process when the squirrel we thought was Sammy had a litter of kits.¹ Up to that point, we had only one drey² in our backyard tree. But after last summer, it was apparent that three of her offspring had decided to put down roots in the neighborhood and three additional dreys appeared.³

Now that Togo is gone and much of the activity in our yard has been ceded to birds; neighborhood cats; our friend, Freddie the fox; the rarely seen Opie the o’possum; and our scurry⁴ of squirrels, I am looking for a way to positively identify all of the players. Except for grackels, the birds are pretty easy. We have a pair of blue jays, a white-winged dove (Doug), and an occasional pair of ladder-backed woodpeckers. The cats are: (1) the black cat, Blacky; (2) the black cat with only one ear, Van Gogh; (3) and the black and white and brown cat, Neopolitan. Yet, the squirrels’ identities remain shrouded in mystery.

In searching for a path forward, I’ve done quite a bit of parallel research by studying chipmunk identification. Chip and Dale have different colored noses. I still don’t know whether it’s Chip or Dale who has the red nose. But I can tell them apart.⁵ Alvin and the Chipmunks have very distinguishable voices which produce their strong harmonies. Thank goodness they don’t look anything alike and wear distinguishable clothing.⁶

Based on that intense study, the only strong options for establishing identities for our squirrels seem to be nose painting or unique costumes — or voice identification.

I’m sure that Togo would have come up with an elegant solution. Except he didn’t care. Every squirrel he ever knew held him in high disregard when he called them Sammy. And he was perfectly content with that.⁷

Ending on a serious note, names are important. Whenever you can, learn names and use them when talking with others. It is good to be known and valued. I’m confident that Togo, in the still of the night when he wasn’t promoting his devil-may-care reputation, called each and every creature — even the squirrels — by name.

“Goodnight, Sammy! Goodnight, Samantha! Goodnight, Ralston! Good night, Prusilla!”

1. The mother squirrel and her litter is collectively called a “dray.”

2. “Drey“ is the proper name for a squirrel’s nest — not to be confused with “dray,” as defined in Footnote 1.

3. Squirrels are loners, fiercely territorial, and, except when a mother squirrel is tending to her litter, don’t share bedrooms.

4. A gang of squirrels is known as a “scurry,” although these gangster associations are only loosely bound, mostly for the purpose of getting group rates at the movies. See Footnote 3.

5. A similar problem is presented in the duck world. Donald’s nephews, Huey, Dewey, and Louie, are identical. Thankfully, they always wear different colored sweaters. Again, I can never remember which color goes with which duckling, but neither can Donald. Importantly, we have no ducks living in our yard so this is inconsequential.

6. Extra credit to Alvin who has a big “A” on his shirt.

7. Just for the record, Togo chased many a squirrel in our yard and there is no record that he ever caught one. I think he did it just to rile them up. He thought their trash-talking was hilarious.