They’re Baaa-aack! (Flying Squirrels, That Is.)

Ah, November.  The beginning of flying squirrel season!  Around mid-month, from the poorly-sealed attic above, we hear the first scurryings and squeakings that signal the news that our flying squirrel colony is back and setting up residence.

Last year, our landlord’s handyman misidentified the squirrels as “attic chipmunks” and tried unsuccessfully for two months to evict them.  That is, until January, when he whipped out the rat poison and Matt and I intervened — and soon realized that we had flying squirrels, not chipmunks, on our hands.

From January through March, we set the live traps whenever we heard telltale scuffles in the attic.  We trapped out over seven squirrels, driving them to new forest homes across the river — usually between 2:00 and 5:00 AM, right when they’d enter the traps, because we learned the hard way that a squirrel left to his own devices could MacGyver his way out in less than 30 minutes.

This morning, we caught our first flying squirrel of the fall season.

Those eyes!  Those little paws!  Man, are flying squirrels cute.  So cute, in fact, that — for now, anyway — we don’t mind the 5:30 AM car trip across the Chickahominy River.

In fact, we were happy to be up so early this morning, because from the bridge, we got a fantastic view of Venus, the morning star, at sunrise!