Squirreling Around with Santa

Santa Claus slipped down our chimney early this year. He wore fur and a flat tail that he wrapped around his head as he settled in for a long winter’s nap. This Santa is not from the North Pole. He’s a local character: Flying Squirrel Santa.

“And how,” you may ask, “do you encourage Santa Claus Squirrel to continue his journey?”

It takes creativity and patience. For the most part Frances is the person who exhibits these two key traits, especially when it comes to rescuing wild creatures trapped in compromising situations.

With her typical aplomb Frances devised an exit strategy for our little Santa. Not just once, but twice!

One morning several weeks ago Frances mentioned that she’d heard something drop down our chimney the previous evening around 10:30 p.m. As the morning progressed we noticed occasional rustlings and movements inside the stove pipe. Obviously our chimney-drop guest was alive.

Finally Frances opened the stove door and spotted a furry creature sitting in the stove pipe. “What is it?” she asked, as she held it in her flashlight beam, “It looks like a bunny.”

“How could a rabbit get to the top of our chimney?” I replied. “It has to be a flying squirrel.”

I based my response on two factoids: when we toured this property prior to buying it seven years ago, we found two flying squirrels lying in the fireplace, dead. After we moved in, my cat, Hiziki, frequently spent his nights outside. On occasional mornings-after I’d find a small, disembodied, flat tail outside the patio door.

In short order Frances devised an escape strategy for the squirrel. She taped a black garbage bag around the stove door. She slit open the bottom end of the bag and taped that to a 15-inch diameter plastic leaf-blower nozzle. Then she taped the other end of the nozzle to a white plastic sunflower seed bag with its bottom cut out. The path led to and through the nearby patio door. We waited.

Soon we heard shuffling. Next we saw a small nose peek out a hole in the black plastic bag. Frances predicted that the smell of fresh air running through the exit tunnel would draw the squirrel out of the house. Still, he advanced and retreated, advanced … then retreated. Finally we agreed to rip the bag off the stove, throw open the patio door, and carry the exit “router” to the deck. In short order our squirrel appeared. He hopped and dashed frantically across the deck. When he found an appropriate deck edge from which to leap and glide, he was … gone.

Two days later—plunk—the now too-familiar sound of a small body dropping down our chimney! Frances retrieved her hand-fashioned rescue “router” from the basement, taped it to the stove, and patiently waited. Flying Squirrel #2 quickly trotted through the bags, the pipe, and out the door.

For the moment we’re storing Frances’s uniquely designed “exit router” in the basement. In the meantime …

You better watch out.
You better not cry.
Better not pout.
I’m telling you why.
Santa Claus is coming to town….