Last week, a Pittsburgh woman stopped at the library to return movies and detected a “burning” odor emanating from her car. Noting that the car had also been making a “weird” noise, she popped the car’s hood and discovered oodles of walnuts, as well as grass, nestled among her car’s innards.
It was later determined that more than 200 walnuts were under the hood. While it appears that no one thought to weigh the grass, it was also determined – or maybe just assumed – that enterprising squirrels had stored the walnuts and grass in the car. And they had done so in only a few days.
According to news reports, it took nearly an hour to rid the car of the nuts and grass. What’s more, when mechanics later removed the car’s protective plate, more nuts fell from underneath the engine. Luckily, the car suffered no damage.
The same can’t be said for the squirrels. What are they going to eat this winter? Apparently, they read and understood the moral of “The Ant and the Grasshopper.” Still, all their hard work went for naught.
Of course, I have to question the wisdom of selecting a car as a pantry. So many things could go wrong. What if the car’s owner moved or sold the car? What if you – an enterprising squirrel – became trapped under the hood whilst retrieving said nuts and ended up taking an unplanned trip? Or what if the nuts and grass caused some sort of non-damaging burning sensation that led to the removal of said nuts and grass?
The presence of the grass also makes me wonder if the squirrels planned to squat in the car during the winter. If so, it further proves that they did not put a lot of thought into this endeavor.
They also didn’t learn their lesson. They day after the 200-plus nuts were found, they stored more nuts in the car.
Although I admire the speed at which the squirrels worked, I once again must question their judgment. First of all, didn’t they immediately notice that their oodles of nuts were missing? Second of all, why didn’t that lead them to deduce that maybe they shouldn’t use that there car as a pantry?
Regardless, I feel bad for the squirrels. It’s similar to the feeling I have when I sweep away spiderwebs. Spiders go to all that trouble weaving those webs so they can catch unsuspecting insects and then it’s all gone in one or two swipes.
Then again, I guess I am saving the lives of unsuspecting insects. But what are the spiders going to eat?
This post originally appeared in the Appalachian News-Express.