Living and loving all things natural (my affinity for Hostess Snowballs notwithstanding), we’ve had a nice wooden bird feeder hanging outside my dining room window, on a rope screwed into the soffit. Over the years, we’ve enjoyed visits from all sorts of avians, from nondescript sparrows to some brightly, beautifully plumed travelers. As with most bird feeders, the local squirrel population that lives in the woods that abut my back yard have discovered this hanging feast and its easy pickin’s.

I’ve gone on line to search for squirrel deterrents and other varmint-proof feeders. Amazingly, the ones that look like they’ll actually work all cost around $100 or more. Sorry but I’m not giving up a month of TV and Internet just so some rodents have to look elsewhere for a meal. There’s got to be a cheaper way….

Taking a cue from my friend’s horse corral with the electric fence, I grabbed a 6-volt lantern battery and tacked some solid core, un-insulated wire strategically on the feeder pan.

However, this voltage level, apparently did not deter the lil’ varmints, as they munched contentedly while perched atop the wires.

Time to up the ante.

Time for 120 volts of pure squirrel zappin’ power!

Toss the battery aside, clip the female end of an extension cord, strip off some insulation and attach to the two screws on the feeder that run to the two wires on the feeder pan.  The wires are about 4 inches apart, so touching one produces no effect, but touching two should give them buggers something to consider.  Run the extension cord in through the window and plug it in.

Sit, wait and watch.

Ok, here comes Rocky, peeking over the gutter. He climbs down the rope that holds the feeder. Climbs onto the feeder and begins his meal. He works his way over one wire, munching contentedly. He shifts slightly towards the other wire and ZAP! He jumps about a foot in the air, almost like a cartoon, squeaks what I know is a very Bad Word in Squirrelese, and lands on the rhododendron below. He then walks slowly and gingerly across my yard and climbs a tree at the edge of the woods, muttering to himself.

Not 10 minutes later, Rocky returns, with a repeat performance.

Again, though, he returns- gotta admire his stick-to-itiveness- and he is much more wary this time. He makes his way down the rope, stops atop the feeder, and then crawls down the side, and hanging by his back feet, begins feasting by using his front paws and pulling seed from the feeder pan.

I rap on the window and he jumps to the ground, only to return shortly thereafter, repeatedly.

Defeat? Never!

So I retire to my Secret Laboratory, cleverly hidden behind the rotating bookcase in my manse’s library. I put on my lab coat, dark goggles and heavy black rubber gloves (safety first, you know) and turn on the Van de Graff generator and Tesla coils. I begin cackling madly as I strategically (but decoratively) tack more wire to the feeder. On the sides, on the top, always keeping the two leads at least 2-3″ apart, making sure to cover wherever my wily opponent might sit in an attempt to purloin a meal.

I re-hang the feeder and wait.

Soon, the gray menace climbs down the rope. While atop the feeder, he touches only one of the leads, but as he begins his descent along the side to assume his previous feeding position- ZAP! Another squeal, another leap and a another gingerly skulk back to the forest.

A day of further attempts by the rodent to get at the feed pan. He tries climbing from the window sill. He tries various leaps directly from the gutter above or from the rope itself, and each time receives my my good friend Tesla’s wrath. Victory is mine!

The next morning, I awake and saunter smugly to the dining room to drink my coffee and watch the birds feed. I look out the window and sputter my coffee at the pane, aghast at what I see.

I see an empty rope swinging ever so slowly in the gentle breeze. Tiny teeth marks are evident in the frayed ends of the pathetic string that remains hanging from the soffit. I look below, and there lies the empty feeder, with opened seed husks strewn about at the base of the rhododendron. The remnants of a Rodent Feast.

I raise my fists to the heavens. Nooooooo! Blasted Sciurus carolinensis! I Shall Defeat You!!!!

I run outside to my yard and gather the feeder and scurry back to my lab. I fill my blackboard with arcane formulae and random drawings of electrified small furbid creatures. Finally, after weeks (okay, about 15 minutes) I emerge with my Ultimate Creation. The final two wires that run down along opposite sides of the hanger rope. I re-hang the now impervious feeder and sit, watch and wait.

It has now been 2 weeks and my worthy opponents have yet to figure out a way to get to their prize. I believe, yes, I KNOW that now, finally Victory is now truly Mine!

Mwahahahahahahahaaaaaa!