Black squirrels are always noticeable, and one had been living with the other grey squirrels in either one (or both) of my squirrel cabins since last autumn.

Yes, I provide cabins for my squirrels. I put this one here because there used to be a through-the-wall air conditioner, and when I removed it, it still had the rack. So as an earlier squirrel had indicated it was a cozy spot to put a cottage, I made them one. It was a hit, providing years of shelter for them, and entertainment for me.

The squirrels spend a lot of time running along the fence and climbing the house. If I stopped to talk to them, they’ll stop to listen to me. That’s how I noticed one day that she was nursing. And soon enough, I saw she spent a lot of time lounging on top of the squirrel cabin next to my bedroom window.

Of course I had to name her. And though it took a while, I finally saw the babies peeking out of the cabin.

Gladys became my friend

Gladys was always coming by, looking at me with her beady little eyes, and she also had the cutest tip of white fur on her tail. She was a polite squirrel. She’s not the first squirrel who’d waltz in when the back door was open, but she always asked for her treats. Of course, if the back door was open and I wasn’t around, she’d take the opportunity to help herself, like any other squirrel. And she loved dark plums! Oh, they were her favourite.

She also loved Lindt chocolates, because it became clear that someone in one of these houses had an open stash she could get into. I found several Lindt wrappers around my yard over the course of a few days. This was worrisome, because humans are problematic. First, we give them food that’s usually bad for them. And then, the animal will associate us as a source of food, thinking we’re not dangerous, when we inevitably prove we are.

Gladys’s babies grow up

The babies got bigger and more adventurous on their window ledge. I’d hoped there were three, but really, she graduated a healthy pair out of the squirrel cabin. One day while they were still “foldable,” Gladys took them somewhere down the row of houses to live for a while and start to explore. They were back before the summer was out.

I think Gladys even had another baby after that, because when these guys were teenagers, I heard and saw a young baby out on the window ledge later on in the evening, after dark. I felt like it had been bullied out of the cabin while she wasn’t there. It started making a piercing cry, and after about 15 minutes, someone fetched it and tucked it back into bed.

In September, I started seeing a lot less of Gladys, and her two teenagers were now young adults. One of them came in for an adventure one day:

But now it’s late October and I haven’t seen Gladys in over a month and a half, and I haven’t seen Wallace or his sibling for a couple of weeks. I’m afraid something terrible has happened to her, and that means human mischief.

It’s illegal to hunt, destroy, or displace squirrels.

You need a permit for that because if you have a squirrel you deem “nuisance,” it’s pretty much a fruitless endeavour. It’s your job to secure your home and garden against them by closing up places they came in (there’s a humane way to do it) and excluding them from pilfering your fruits. Removing them from the territory only creates a vacuum for some other squirrel to move in. (People say the same for feral cats, but in that case, you should be getting them off the streets and into homes or at least into places where they’re not killing local wildlife.)

In the autumn, squirrels are extra-busy looking for food to cache for winter. There’s gonna be some population movement as they have to figure out where to build their cottages or find a space to move into (and who they’ll share it with).

But Gladys had a place to live. So it seems to me there’s a so-and-so nearby, who’s disappearing the squirrels around here. It’s not the first time I’ve noticed the squirrels go poof just as fall is winding down. We had five black squirrels using our block (Gladys, her two teenagers, the younger one born in the summer, and another local boy) and all of them are gone. And to me, they’re all friends. They belong here. And if you find them to be a nuisance, then all you need to do is be obnoxious at them, not to them. Animals know when you don’t like them. That’s sufficient. They shouldn’t have to “disappear.”

I didn’t actually put this out for the neighbours to see, but I simply have to say something:

I would also like to imagine that maybe this is me imagining things, and that as a wild animal, Gladys has shifted her abode. Maybe she was chased out by the grey squirrels, or found something else she likes within a few blocks.

I hope I see her again. She’s unmistakable, and unforgettable. And I hope I see some more black squirrels in the spring.