I started checking the Web site stats again, and some of the most recent search strings are just delightful. Here are a few things that have brought people here in the last month or so:

“I love booty,” “love that booty” and “booty control.”

“jammin a brother up,” “forensics be jammin a brother up” and “forensics always be jammin a brother up.” Welcome, fellow CSI fans.

“ruth moose laundry.” I would love to know what that means.

“squirrel with strange tail.” Not to be confused with “squirrel with strange booty.”

Hey, everybody! It’s a guest post! Rockford’s mom, Genia, is here to share the squirrel story.

* * * * *

Has anyone else seen that cute 1950’s Walt Disney True Life Adventure titled “Perri“? Who would not be won over by these amiable little critters? I think there were a few things Walt left out…

Pteromys the flying squirrel grew up in the woods of the western Carolina mountains. How he came to be where I found him is not too hard to understand with a little background information.

Building is booming in the mountains of North Carolina. The area has been developing as a retirement, “second home” and resort community for many years. As the pressure from construction increases, many of the local “residents” are being pushed away from their ancestral homes.

We brought our family here in 1984. We bought a home and settled in. We were frequent travelers, sometimes for prolonged periods. Unknown to us, however, there were some “settlers” on our land before us, and they still believe that theirs is the prior, better claim. Legalities mean nothing to them. They are incredibly territorial. Keeping them in line requires daily vigilance. It seems that our home was built in a primary nesting area of the Southern Flying Squirrel.

According to experts:

“The Southern Flying Squirrel is one of two species which are the only flying squirrels found in North America (the other is the somewhat larger Northern flying squirrel). It is found in deciduous and mixed woods in the eastern half of North America.

“Southern Flying Squirrels have grey brown fur on top with darker flanks and are a cream color underneath. They have large dark eyes and a flattened tail. They have a furry membrane that extends between the front and rear legs, used to glide through the air.

“Southern Flying Squirrels show substantial homing abilities, and can return to their nests if artificially removed to distances of up to a kilometer. Their home ranges may be up to 40,000 square meters for females and double that for males…

“Although the squirrels will make outside nests, especially in pine woods, they prefer to nest in holes in dead trees or “snags”. They often use these nesting holes communally, especially in winter, when huddling gives them significant energy savings. They readily use artificial nest boxes.”

So there you have it! To the local flying squirrel population, our home is a very large, comfortable, “artificial nest box.” Consequently, over the years we have had innumerable close encounters of the “squirrelly” kind. We have removed squirrels from the attics, from the woodburning stove (sad), from the chimney flues (sad again), from bags of seed in the basement, from behind the refrigerator, and from the top shelf of the pantry. We have had them greet us from above the back door, met them coming up the stairs late at night, found them perched sociably on the top of a bathroom door, and found one napping among my son’s stuffed animals. Recently, my daughter had a squirrel visit her one night while she was sleeping. Last year, we re-roofed the entire house because three family groups had taken up residence over the dining room. Whenever anything goes missing around the house, we blame the squirrels. With such proven tenacity, it’s no wonder that flying squirrels are now on the “least concern” part of the endangered species list.

Which brings me back to Pteromys. Early the other morning, he met with an unusual accident. This time we weren’t there to see what happened. Either he took a swan dive into the toilet, thinking that we had upgraded their accommodations with an indoor pool, or he badly misjudged a leap from the top of the medicine cabinet to the towel shelf, resulting in a ricochet dunking. Whatever the cause, the effect was that I found him floating face down in the water (very, very sad).

Hercule Poirot, the cat, isn’t talking, but the next day he was more than anxious to show us where Volucella (Mrs. Pteromys), was preparing a nest under one of the storage racks in the kitchen. Hercule is a wonder at locating our visitors but terrible at evicting them … which is why Volucella is still here SOMEWHERE! Wherever she is, I’m sure she’s wearing that pair of glasses I can’t find …

I just polished off most of my Easter treat: A Harry & David’s chocolate sampler box. There were five fantastic pieces of chocolate in it, and I took down four of them in about four minutes. The last piece is mocha; I’m saving it for Rockford. Shockingly, I neglected to put a single Cadbury egg in Poppy’s basket this year. I guess that’s for the best.