Chipmunk

Every morning, without fail, my husband takes two brimming buckets of sunflower seeds and one of corn out to the Tooley Cafe, our on-site animal restaurant. The bird feeders get filled, the deer table replenished and a small, low table for the ground feeders is heaped to overflowing. All diners at our Cafe have food security.

In return, we are provided with endless entertainment as we watch the action from our kitchen table. Lately, the chipmunks have been racing like crazy, chasing each other like a bunch of pent up kindergartners let loose on a playground. They run each other off the seed table somehow knowing that soon they will be underground in their burrows for long, winter naps. It’s time to stuff themselves.

Since we have been watching and enjoying the chipmunks for many years, we assumed we had garnered a great deal of knowledge about chipmunk behavior. That delusion ended last week. I walked in the door and my husband said to me, “I can’t wait to show you this video I took when I looked out the kitchen window over the sink.” The view is of our 9 to 11 foot high cup plants which have gone to seed.

Apparently, the treats in the Cafe needed to be supplemented. Who knew that chipmunks could live the high life? We thought that was only for their cousins, the squirrels.