Tag Archives: squirrels

Squirrels Love Dave’s Killer Bread

Dave’s Killer Bread vs Acorns.

Here you will witness an experiment. Below you will find an array of acorns matched with a line of Dave’s Killer Bread.

Now, truth be known, EVERY squirrel in our back hard loves DKB. They eat it out of our hands and fight over it like demons.

However, notice the progression of missing nuts. Below you you will see one larger, wiser squirrel FORGO the bread in lieu of the acorns — every time he comes back (yes it’s a he). He comes back TEN times to take every nut.

Yet the younger, adolescent squirrel, will take the bread — every time — ignoring the nuts. In fact, we had two youngsters bopping up and taking bread while the older squirrel sequestered every nut on display out into the yard.

I opened the door and sat their trying to capture photographs of these guys. (Look at the size of those acorns!) This was about 18 inches away. The big fellow came in and gave me a sniff once, but opted for — you guessed it — another acorn.

The bread is this nutty, heavy protein stuff that the tree-rats beg for on a daily basis. To actually ignore it is an amazing feat of dedication vs temptation. The wee squirrels didn’t give a fuck about the future, “gimme my daily bread you damn humans!” The adult had one thing in mind, take every nut and save it. It was a stunning example of the dichotomy of youth vs elders.


Adolescent squirrels are spastic

That big Douglas Fir tree there was covered with cones. Two or three Energizer squirrels, young ones with apparently nothing better to do, cut down every cone they could reach. The cones littered the lawn and the mower does not care for them. So I had to collect them. Here you see three bins filled and then dumped back into a pile in the woods/park behind us. These were the cones found only in the yard. The balance the little devils had squirreled away in whatever nook and cranny they could find.

What’s curious is it’s only the young squirrels that do this. The adults? They know there’s nearly zero nutritional value in a fir cone. Within the cones exist tiny seeds the size of sesame seeds, attached to wings that flutter out once the cones have dried to brittle.

But, since they think there’s value in them, I decided not to pitch them. If they get desperate then they’ll find the hundreds I dumped in a pile.