Squirrel Speak
Everywhere, that is, except in the waiting room of the Kreupelbosch Veterinary Clinic in Constantia: Dee Hazell , whilst attending the many ailments of the well-to-do pets of the area, is worrying about squirrels.
That’s right – squirrels. Vermin, pestilence, bushy-tailed rats – call them what you will. They respond to the call of Spring along with the rest of Nature, and it’s a time when they could use a little help from their friends.
Whilst the final Cape storms may hold little threat for the trees, those who live in them are subjected to rather a rough time. Baby birds and squirrels are commonly knocked or blown out of their homes, and the majority of these are destined to die, according to Nature’s Book of Life.
The birds are often adopted by kind passers-by, but few are willing to risk a finger or two for a dizzy squirrel. Not so Dee and husband Rob, who, for years, have been stepping in for these injured animals and successfully releasing them back to the wild on their recuperation. Although others may curse the lowly squirrel, these two pioneers painstakingly create tiny forearm splints and slings, and convert expensive aviaries into cosy dens and temporary dreys for their scratchy little patients.
“The aviaries serve as dreys, and keep our domestic pets off the squirrels. Not only that, but they keep the little monsters from chewing through wires, fiddling with computer keyboards and stealing pens …”
What could possess this couple to boldly go where no vet. has gone before? Dee puts it down to the squirrels’ bad press:
“Contrary to popular belief, the squirrels have no major impact on the wellbeing of the environment. They certainly annoy the local farmers because of their habit of picking and wasting fruit, but that is about as far as it goes, really.
“Squirrels are a part of our town environment. Even in more urban areas, people encourage them into their gardens, and with the help of characters such as Charles, I can help in educating others about the nature of squirrels and how to respect them as wild animals. They don’t do enough damage to warrant extermination.”
Charles? Who’s Charles?
“Oh, Charles D. Zar Star. Come downstairs and meet him – it’ll be good for the feel of your interview!”
I am ushered into Dee’s bedroom and left for a moment with my thoughts, pen and paper at the ready. Almost as soon as the door handle moves, a hairy missile streaks across the carpet at lightning speed and halts precariously on the rim of a laundry basket in front of me. Charles regards me thoughtfully for a moment before diving for the sanctuary of Dee’s leg, his tail twitching. This, ladies and gentlemen, is the latest local face to grace our television screens. Charles D. Zar Star – rescued at six weeks of age from the middle of a road beneath his drey: brown eyes, neat ears, good figure, previous acting experience …
You might have already seen Charles in television commercials such as Aylesbury, Nestle Clusters and, strangely, Salon Selectives (in which he had to poke his nose out of a shopping basket, I believe). He has also worked on a nature documentary about urban squirrels, in which he took the lead role.
“Charles is now one year old, and I will have to release him in about two months’ time; he’s at last becoming quite aggressive, you see,” laughs Dee, as Charles perches a little too close to my left ear. Just what kind of aggression are we talking about, here?
“Oh, biting, attacking members of their own families – that sort of thing. Usually at around six or seven months the aggression starts to appear; the more aggressive the behaviour, the more prepared the squirrel to return to the wild.”
Indeed, most vets. refuse to work on injured squirrels on account of their vicious biting. The Hazells themselves only take in baby squirrels, as the adults are too difficult to handle. They are far more dodgy than rats, apparently: a quick session with a squirrel will cure ‘ratphobia’ forever. In fact, the family’s pet rats have become distinctly nervous around Dee when she’s with her squirrels. But if she is really concerned about respecting the wild nature of these animals, isn’t Dee running the risk of bonding too closely with them? Doesn’t she struggle to release them eventually?
“The squirrels soon forget me after their release because their survival instinct is so strong … and I wouldn’t recognise one from the other were I to bump into them again out there. They all look very similar! We take the contents of their dreys to a carefully selected, preferably uninhabited tree, and place it all at its base. We then watch for a while from a safe distance, and eventually leave them in peace.”
It’s hard to believe that the cheeky vermin scampering around the bedroom at the speed of light would ever forget this experience, and his affection for his surrogate mum is almost tangible; but freedom will come to Charles, too, one day.
Although she has raised about twenty such waifs, Dee still recalls with obvious broodiness the first two babies that arrived …
“Squidgy and Major turned out to be so easy to raise – just like human babies, really. Feed, burp, wipe, sleep … just like that! We feed the babies milk, cod liver oil, honey, vitamins and a couple of extras. Actually, I spoil this one rotten: dried nuts from Pick ‘n Pay – whatever!”
Evidently, it isn’t enough. As we speak, Charles chews his way through a leather tassle on Dee’s carelessly discarded shoe. He leaps onto the bed and presents it to her with all the pride of a child flaunting a new work of art.
At present, Dee has four squirrels staying with her, including two females of about eighteen months. Neither of them can be released immediately, as one of them is in season and the other may have suffered more than a fleeting dizzy spell on falling out of her tree … yet both are so aggressive that Dee cannot hold on to them any longer. Charles is the only one that is allowed to roam as he does right now, as he has bonded with Dee in an extraordinary way.
“The most important thing to remember, though, is that Charles is very much a ‘one-man rodent’. Not just anybody can approach him: he’s a wild animal. He will never be tamed. I am his surrogate, temporary mother – that’s all. His instinct will dictate to us when his time has come for leaving.”
What of the filming? Surely that must take some trickery of some kind … but only on the part of a good cameraman, insists Dee. Interest from the international and local film industry started in September 1996, as a result of referrals from the World of Birds in Hout Bay.
At around that time, international film crews started to look for squirrels which could complete a scene without biting off somebody’s ponytail. It just so happened that Dee was busy rearing two young male squirrels – the late Stuntman and the aforementioned Charles – who, between them, struck up an on-set partnership that would put Starsky and Hutch to shame.
Charles, being the younger of the two, suffered from stage fright, and so would do the extremely still shots: looking at a nut, that sort of thing. Stuntman, as his name suggests, handled the tough stuff, such as running across a room, or scaling a pole – anything just short of bungee jumping, I gather. Bit of a lad, was our Stuntman.
Sadly, Stuntman died after a short illness, and Charles took his place as leading man on-set. Dee makes sure that there are as few distractions for him as possible. With his new co-star Bokkeee, Charles will suffer no more than eight people on-set at a time. Too many distractions can make the squirrels nervous, which, of course, leads to aggressive behaviour.
“Added to that, ” says Dee, “they have a very short attention span, ranging from a few seconds to a minute or two. On one occasion, Charles developed an obsession with my fingernail, which I quickly snipped off and taped to the back of the filmed object, so that he could be filmed interacting with it.”
Charles’ natural curiosity, in conjunction with Dee’s ability to understand him, has made him a popular actor with film crews. He is never asked to do anything contrary to that which he does naturally, and this has made his performance so highly acclaimed that he has been known to receive standing ovations for his skills. Many feel that he deserves his own caravan; he already has his own travelling drey. He’s even been made up as a Red Squirrel – probably for Salon Selectives – and cameramen love him for his professionalism.
Admittedly, he has more of a penchant for toes and bottoms than ponytails, according to Dee. Still – that’s one talented squirrel.
The squirrels are happy enough to work for choice nuts and other appetizers, but the monetary earnings go straight into the ‘wildlife fund’ that has been set up at the clinic. Future orphaned squirrels and such will benefit from the antics of Charles and his mates, by receiving the love that Rob and Dee lavish on all of their patients.
As for Charles, the day of his release is drawing nearer. Misty-eyed and serious, Dee tells me of how he recently leapt on to her bed and sank his teeth into an otherwise untouchable part of her as she innocently read the paper: he’s gradually becoming more aggressive, and is asking for his freedom. Ironic, really: there are some guys who would venture to do that in the hope that they might be invited to stay forever.
“When they’re ready to go, there’s usually no problem in releasing them. Rob is crazy about Charles, too, so there’ll be champagne and tissues when we say goodbye to him.” She places a hand on the fidgety creature’s head and he lets out a wild hiss of indignation: “Squirrel swearing!” she laughs. It’s obvious, though: Charles is growing up.
“I will be forever enriched for having had this experience of living and learning with the squirrels,” she smiles, as she returns the little animal to his ‘drey’ … for now.
End
