Anyone who ever met and talked to my Grandfather, no matter how brief the encounter, can likely attest to one thing. He loved to tell stories. Often the same ones, over and over again. So in order to say goodbye, it’s only fitting that I share one about him.
Like most stories revolving around Gramps, this one started with a typical problem while bird watching in one’s own backyard. It involved a bird feeder and the common neighborhood squirrels, much to my grandparents chagrin, greedily packed their cheeks full of bird seed.
I’ve heard of several ways to deter them from eating bird seed and destroying feeders. Most of them are fairly practical, and a few are conceptually hilarious yet very ineffective. PAM Cooking Spray anyone? That’s beside the point, as Gramps went to the root of the problem, and chose a simple solution. Relocation. Which went on for a few years.
Gramps’ Squirrel Relocation Service involved a baited box trap and a short, 1-2 mile joyride out to one of the many wooded areas around the town of Willshire. Nothing really out of the ordinary except for one minor detail that I’ve omitted thus far. It is one that sheds some light on my grandfather’s line of reasoning, and to this day causes me to chuckle. You see before their release and after a vigorously disorienting shake of the box trap courtesy of Gramps, each of the squirrels’ received a blue-painted tail.
When asked why he gave each of those squirrels the parting gift of a quick tail-dye-job. He matter-of-factly answered, “I wanna make sure I’m not catching the same one.”

