I know of no one who likes grey squirrels. They take over bird feeders, live in attics, and are considered an all-around pest.

But once in a while, a pest becomes an individual, a sympathetic individual, who captures your heart. Enter Stumpy the Squirrel.

Two years ago, shortly after I retired from high-school biology teaching, Stumpy appeared at my bird feeders with the other squirrels, eating my expensive “sunflower chips” and causing anxiety in my feather-lined heart. On second glance though, I noticed he was different, an apparent target of bullying. What was going on here?

Stumpy was missing half of his long, furry, squirrel tail. What had happened to him? He didn't seem to be the worse for wear, so I put him in my Oh, there's Stumpy file as the only gray squirrel I could distinguish from the rest of the horde. A squirrel I could use perhaps as an indicator for how long they stay in the same place and perhaps even how long they live.

Last fall, when I again had time to observe my backyard, there was Stumpy, now frolicking with his pals: fat, happy, and eating his share and more of the gold-plated sunflower chips. Winter three was coming up. I knew that one squirrel does not a population make, but Stumpy could still serve as a pretty good indicator about local grey squirrel life. In fact, life seemed not too bad in my back yard: great food, plenty of places for nests, friends to play with. But what about sex, I wondered? Was Stumpy ignored by the girls because of his tail? (Or the boys? I’d assumed Stumpy was a male, but I don’t really know.)

By midwinter, Stumpy's fur appeared a little less thick and full. He wasn’t frisky, but lethargic. There must be something wrong with him. With binoculars, I saw him close up, and what a sight! He had a patch on his right side that had no fur, with one big, red open sore on the skin.

What had happened? It was 15 degrees. I figured that might be the end of Stumpy. But how would I know? Do a squirrel inventory every day? Stumpy didn’t show up on a regular basis. I went searching for information.

A local veterinarian told me Stumpy might be suffering from mange, a mite infection. Or he might be biting and irritating an itchy spot. As winter is stressful on all wildlife, Stumpy’s tail problem, possible mange, or even feeding on contaminated bird feed could all have contributed to his appearance.

Following the habits of grey squirrels may not seem exciting, but I did want to see how Stumpy fared. I set up a blog to record my Stumpy watch. In response, a college friend suggested I trap him and take him to a recovery center. Hmmm, not sure about that one.

When I showed Stumpy’s picture to my next door neighbor, his comment was, “Oughta be shot for eating my bird seed.” Not what I really wanted to hear. Our four-year-old granddaughter followed Stumpy and wanted to make him into a princess.

As the winter wore on, Stumpy appeared, though not regularly. When I did see him, his skin looked better, and his appetite was great. As squirrels aren’t herd animals, his solitary appearances didn’t seem abnormal.

Perched on a tree branch during a January snowstorm, Stumpy looked shocked at having to go through 12 inches of snow to the birdfeeders. Instead, he went back up his tree making noises whose meaning I could only imagine.

On a sunny but cold March day, Stumpy sat on his branch again, with his injury facing the sun, seeming to just enjoy the warmth. I startled him and he ran around the back of the tree and disappeared. I could see his naked skin and his injury were still there, but he seemed none the worse for it.

Now it’s May. The trees have leafed out, the grass is up, and I continue to see Stumpy at the feeder every couple of days. Amazingly, most of his fur has grown back, except for a small spot, and he looks fat and happy. But a number of other squirrels, including a red squirrel, now seem to be afflicted with the same skin condition.

What I’d taken for granted, the presence of grey squirrels just outside my window, has turned me, an experienced science teacher, into to a humble observer. It’s given me the awareness that my condo backyard is not just as a grassy knoll mowed all summer by noisy machines, but an inspiring and thought-provoking corner of our planet with its own secrets and mysteries.


By Suzy Martin, Master Gardener and Community Tree Steward