It’s 5:30 a.m. My world is quiet. The only sounds I hear are the heat firing up and my dog eating his breakfast. I’m sitting on my couch when, above me, the silence breaks with the sound of scurrying feet and what sounds like a golf ball rolling across the ceiling. Even without X-ray vision, I know it’s a squirrel rolling a walnut. Old houses have slivers of openings that enable critters to enter. My old farmhouse is no exception.
“What shall I do? And under the eaves / and through the walls the squirrels have gnawed their ragged entrances—but it is the season / when they need shelter, so what shall I do?” asked Mary Oliver in her poem “Making the House Ready for the Lord.”
The simple answer to Oliver’s poem and my dilemma is to find those openings and seal them up. But we each have another question to wrestle with: How will we let this disturbance influence our attitude toward or against the squirrel perpetrator?
Discussions about our frustration with squirrels can pop up anywhere, including in the supermarket, at a holiday dinner, or even in a book club discussion. When I mentioned at my book club that I was writing a book about squirrels, one of the women retorted without hesitation, “I hate squirrels.” Her direct condemnation of our local squirrels led to a quick discussion on who felt the same and who found them amusing.
The feelings that rise to the surface when we experience squirrels in a park, at a sanctuary, or in our own attic can be strong and often divide us. It’s hard for people not to have strong feelings about members of the squirrel family. For simplicity, let’s call them Camp A and Camp B.
Camp A consists of people who feed squirrels outside their windows, finding joy in their playful antics. Camp B consists of people who wage war with the tree squirrels that munch away at their bird feeders, seeing them as pests. Then there are those independents who waffle between both camps, appreciating squirrels’ beauty but considering the need to protect their own property. Many fall into this category. Regardless of group identity, squirrels can elicit strong feelings from anyone at any time.
“People with bird feeders bring up their frustrations to me all the time,” Noah Perlut told Washington Post journalist Kate Morgan. “I’m always curious why they don’t like the squirrels. Aren’t you feeding wildlife because you want to see them? Why is it you only want to see birds, rather than birds and squirrels together?”
Terry Rich, a contributor to the Idaho Press, wrote about his ongoing personal squirrel skirmishes with fox squirrels in Boise: “We have a western screech-owl box in our yard, in which we want western screech-owls. Keeping bushy-tailed tree-rats out of our owl box is a nearly full-time job. Colour me grumpy.” Tree-rats sounds a bit harsh and grumpy but perfectly describes his feelings. He’s definitely in Camp B.
Right or wrong, sometimes we love a species until it causes us disruption. But we must accept that squirrels are very good at being squirrels. Disruption is their middle name. And while we’re talking about disruption, we must come to grips with the fact that humans have cornered the market. We’ve put up the feeders. We’ve clear-cut their forests. Don’t throw stones from glass houses.
“Keeping bushy-tailed tree-rats out of our owl box is a nearly full-time job. Colour me grumpy.”
The outdoor bird feeder market in the United States was valued at $216.8 million (US) in 2025. It is expected to increase to $309.15 million (US) by 2031. Birders can find feeders with names like Squirrel Buster among their options, as well as feeders that include “squirrel baffles.” Birders are encouraged to use strong scents, such as garlic, peppermint, and pepper, on their feeder poles to deter climbing squirrels from eating the seeds purchased for wild birds. But squirrels see a buffet placed out for them and will continue to attempt to reach it despite the difficulties. That demonstrates just how strong their drive is to obtain food to survive.
That drive is just one of the reasons it is illegal to feed squirrels in places such as Ontario. Feeding squirrels and other wildlife in your backyard might seem friendly, but it upsets the food chain and can lead to unintended encounters. As prey, squirrels can attract predators as they move closer to humans. In addition, squirrels can gnaw through wood window frames for more food.
However, the squirrels’ drive to obtain food isn’t limited to birdseed or peanuts. Their omnivore orientation also drives them to a marauding behaviour that extends beyond bird feeders. And birders aren’t alone in wanting to discourage squirrels.
Bill Carver, a campground host in state parks and national forests, always deals with the sound of nibbling squirrel teeth on the top of his recreational vehicle roof. But it isn’t just the noise that grates on him; it’s the chewing of his insulation and the cover of his grill, as well as the fear that the squirrels will eventually chew his electrical wiring or sewer hoses. To lighten the mood and foster a sense of community, he created the satiric Squirrel Haters of America group on Facebook.
Here, he and others frequently poke fun at their squirrel frustration with humorous squirrel jokes and cartoons, such as one depicting a squirrel telling his human therapist, “When I learned, ‘You are what you eat,’ I realized I was nuts.” A brief questionnaire to join the group makes it clear that the group is designed to bring humour to our complex relationship with squirrels, providing a much-needed chuckle in the face of squirrel-induced exasperation.
Gardeners, another group vexed with squirrel marauders, have their concerns about keeping squirrels away from their well-tended gardens. The recommended use of coffee grounds, pepper sprays on the soil, and sprays on plants to deter squirrels from uprooting them and stealing bulbs is a testament to their collective struggle. For these nature lovers, preventing natural squirrel behaviour is key to enjoying their selection of nature, whether it’s a feeder hanging from a tree or a well-tended garden.
While we might resent the squirrels in our gardens and at our feeders, it’s crucial to remember that these backyard “terrorists” are also exhibiting much darker behaviour in their quest for food. As omnivores, squirrels spend a considerable amount of time pillaging the nests of wild birds. This behaviour is not often witnessed, but it’s a stark reminder of the complex nature of these seemingly innocent, adorable creatures.
“Was it the gray squirrels? The red squirrels?” wrote Diane Ackerman in Cultivating Delight after the gruesome discovery of a devastated wren nest in her garden. “Either could have been the culprit. One is not supposed to take sides, but I feel the hard punch in the stomach that is loss. All the work the wrens put into raising their young—then to helplessly watch them mutilated and devoured! What horror.”
Ackerman’s grief is shared by anyone who witnesses the cruelty of nature unfolding around them.
We can’t forget the role we also play. We provide feeders and nest boxes to feed our spirit and assist the wild creatures we’ve displaced with our buildings, non-native gardens, and presence. However, our need to bring nature to us sometimes creates more opportunities to witness its rawness.
“Both red and gray squirrels will eat birds’ eggs and nestlings,” Ackerman wrote, “but especially red squirrels, and they’re small enough to ease in and out of the box.” Those bird eggs and nestlings provide squirrels with a crucial boost of calcium, protein, and essential vitamins and minerals they may not get as quickly from tree nuts.
While squirrels are targeted as bird nest predators, they also serve as bird protectors by providing an early warning system that birds often rely on when foraging on the ground. Birds and squirrels are vulnerable to other predators from above and on the ground, such as predatory birds and prowling cats. That squirrel–bird relationship can be complex because, in addition, both squirrels and birds sometimes use each other’s nests.
When squirrels aren’t busy warning wildlife or marauding feeders, gardens, or bird nests, they can also get into trouble with humans by chewing on things other than food, such as car wires or house siding. It’s their nature, as card-carrying members of the order Rodentia. “The reason they are chewing on things is because they have incisors—front teeth—that are always growing,” explained wildlife biologist Robert McCleery of the University of Florida’s Institute of Food and Agricultural Sciences. “If they don’t chew on something, their teeth are to grow into their lower jaw and skull.” To avoid that, squirrel family members, including marmots, will chew on anything that helps wear down their teeth.
Car wires are just the start. Have you ever heard squirrels scurrying above your ceiling, as I have, and cringed at the thought of them running through your attic or scrambling down your chimney? Connecticut’s Department of Energy & Environmental Protection posts a page online titled “Squirrel Nuisance Problems” with advice to homeowners. “A squirrel trapped in a chimney should not be removed through the fireplace area because it might escape into the room. Instead, lower a heavy rope down the chimney to provide the means for the animal to climb out. Drop the other end of the rope to the ground to avoid another trip to the roof to retrieve it after the squirrel has left.”
While this makes sense, there might be more practical solutions than getting on your roof to drop a rope down. I couldn’t have imagined climbing on our tile roof to drop a rope down the fieldstone fireplace chimney of our early 1900s Hudson Valley home when a squirrel became trapped in our family chimney. It caused such chaos as it ran about the house covered in chimney soot. Ridding your home of squirrels is a job for professionals. But there are many ways to deter squirrels from entering your home in the first place. Neighbours may suggest cutting down the trees around your house. While that is an option, it might not be one you are willing to live with. Using humane traps to catch and release the squirrels is another. Sealing up holes where they can enter is the best solution.
The residents of Piedmont, Alabama, don’t drop a ball on New Year’s Eve. Instead, the city “drops a squirrel.”
Regardless of how humans try to fend off marauding squirrels, squirrels still can cause power outages and other problems that wreak havoc. A satirical website named Cyber Squirrel 1, developed by Cris Thomas, documented power outages attributed to squirrels in public records between 1987 and 2019. As of 2019, he had documented 1,252 outages worldwide caused by squirrels.
Not everyone allows the disruptions to derail them. Some individuals and towns embrace the chaos squirrels instigate, embracing the attitude “If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em.” The way Piedmont, Alabama, residents celebrate New Year’s Eve is a perfect example. They don’t drop a ball on New Year’s Eve, as done in New York City, or a peach, as in Georgia; instead, the city “drops a squirrel” to mark the start of the new year and poke fun at the cause for power outages throughout the year. Each year, a mechanized Sparky the Squirrel cut-out runs up a faux telephone pole and ceremoniously sets off a transformer, creating sparks at midnight on December 31.
However, the community of Piedmont isn’t alone in experiencing squirrel-induced power outages. In 1987, a squirrel stepped onto a power line in New York City, met its demise, and caused an outage that shut down the National Association of Securities Dealers Automatic Quotation System (NASDAQ) for eighty-two minutes. Another squirrel caused another NASDAQ disruption in 1994. And there have been more power outages. Almost every week, a reported outage in America is attributed to squirrel activity. During one recent January week, squirrels caused power outages in at least three locations: a shopping mall in Santa Rosa, California; in Dixon, Kentucky; and in Flagstaff, Arizona. A squirrel caused a two-hour power outage in 2018 for 12,000 residents of upstate New York. Among other outages, one in 2022 caused a blackout for over 10,000 Virginians.
On Utica University’s campus is a memorial dedicated to its own Sparky by the class of 2018, with a small squirrel statue inscribed, “The squirrel that searched for light even during the darkest of times.” Sparky the Squirrel nibbled on a live wire, causing a campus-wide power outage right before the 2015 conference men’s basketball championship game. Each October, the campus holds a celebration named Squirrel Day in its honour, complete with warm cider, games, and emotionally charged eulogies to the original Sparky.
As campus celebrities on Bryan College’s Tennessee campus, squirrels were called out in a satire piece by student Rob Speed, a journalism major and head of satire for the college’s publication, The Triangle. Speed put forth a conspiracy theory in “Bryan Triangle” that alleged the campus squirrels were conspiring with skunks and other local woodland wildlife to one day overthrow the campus and “harm us all.” His suggestion to combat this threat was to let out a scream at every squirrel sighting: “Don’t be passive to the usurpation of our campus,” he implored. “Together, we can ward off the invasive revolt of small woodland creatures—one scream at a time.”
Squirrel damage can be troubling and costly. The internet overflows with ways to eradicate pesky squirrels, ranging from humane and ethical approaches, such as pepper spray repellents, decoys, live cage traps, and elimination of entry holes in homes, to the more radical and environmentally harmful solution of poisoning them or using lethal traps.
When people use a rodenticide, an anticoagulant mixed with other chemicals, the poison causes the animal’s blood vessels to weaken, causing internal hemorrhaging. The death is slow and painful, with squirrels and other small rodents dying over many days. If they are preyed upon during those days, secondary poisoning can occur throughout the ecosystem. Hawks, owls, foxes, bald eagles, endangered California condors, mountain lions, and even domestic cats and dogs can also suffer the effects of the poison when they catch and eat a poisoned squirrel. These subsequent deaths are contributing to the widespread decline of Europe’s birds.
A 2021 scientific investigation by scientists of the Leibniz Institute for Zoo and Wildlife Research (Leibniz-IZW), the Julius Kühn-Institute, and the German Environment Agency noted that these poisonous substances were “widely found in liver tissues of birds of prey from Germany.” These birds included northern goshawks, red kites, and white-tailed sea eagles. “We found rodenticide residues in liver tissues of more than 80 percent of the northern goshawks and red kites which we examined,” said Alexander Badry of Leibniz-IZW, the lead author of the article, published in Environmental Research. Not all homeowners are to blame for these deaths in Germany. Anticoagulant rodenticides are often used on large German plantations to protect trees and to control rodents in the sewage systems and canals of towns and cities.
Of course, Germany isn’t alone. In 2024, a beloved owl perished in New York City. Flaco was a Eurasian eagle owl who had lived in the Central Park Zoo before the wires of his enclosure were cut, enabling him to escape into the wilds of the city park. He became quite a celebrity and was photographed daily in trees and atop buildings. Sadly, Flaco was found dead in February 2024. Initial reports indicated trauma, which upheld the speculation that he had flown into a building, but a full necropsy report was planned to find out whether there was any potential exposure to rodenticides or other toxins that might have contributed to the famous bird’s death.
Barry, another celebrated owl that called Central Park home, died in 2021 from colliding with a car, but tests later showed that the barred owl had high levels of rat poison in her system. Poisoned birds, like Barry and Flaco, can suffer from a lack of coordination and a weakness that can facilitate collisions with cars and buildings. NYC Bird Alliance noted that rat poisons were detected in 84 percent of the city’s dead birds in research conducted by the New York State Department of Environmental Conservation. A total of 75,749 pounds of toxic rodenticides were applied in New York City by city agencies in 2022. Did Barry and Flaco digest too many poisoned squirrels? These deaths are a stark reminder of the preventable nature of these tragedies.
Biologist and author Rachel Carson wrote about the poisoning of squirrels in the pages of Silent Spring. Humans have a tumultuous history with these industrious rodents. The squirrels she included were found poisoned by pesticides in Michigan: “Among the mammals ground squirrels were virtually annihilated; their bodies were found in attitudes characteristic of violent death by poisoning.”
Carson didn’t mince words in her description of one poisoned squirrel, which “‘exhibited a characteristic attitude in death. The back was bowed, and the forelegs with the toes of the feet tightly clenched were drawn close to the thorax. . . . The head and neck were outstretched and the mouth often contained dirt, suggesting that the dying animal had been biting at the ground.’ By acquiescing in an act that can cause such suffering to a living creature, who among us is not diminished as a human being?”
Adapted and excerpted from Squirrel: How a Backyard Forager Shapes Our World (2025) by Nancy F. Castaldo, by permission of Island Press, Washington, DC. All rights reserved.
