by Roy Lukes

Tunnel System Marks Red Squirrels' Winter Path


The population of red squirrels this winter in northeastern Wisconsin has been unusually low.

Unlike many other people we know, we miss the red squirrels this winter. They have been entirely absent from our area for the first time in 20 years. Realizing that their population can naturally fluctuate, or that a higher concentration of predators can also lower their numbers, all we can possibly hope is that they return in the near future.

All summer long these pugnacious, loquacious, sassy, soliloquizing "pirates" are quite brown. Come winter, the red fur of these impudent little animals marks them well. Their seasonal change of pelage is due to the actual replacement twice a year of the hairs of the body. The process is very gradual.

Meeko’s winter fur is thicker, longer and softer. Even his tail, a most essential asset, is bushier than in summer. Naturally it will serve this fearless urchin as a warm shawl during the coldest season of the year. It will also aid him in balancing, as somewhat of a parachute when leaping or in the case of a fall, and especially as a device with which to express emotion. I personally believe it was the forerunner of the semaphore.

A typical winter pose has a red squirrel sitting upright on its haunches, tail pressed tightly to the back, body bent forward, and paws held snugly against its breast. If the tail is not at rest, then it is waving like a nervous flag revealing the squirrel’s presence. They are usually not the kind that retreats and hides at the drop of a feather.

Their ears in winter bear short tufts of black hairs that are replaced in summer by shorter red hairs. Even the soles of their feet are quite heavily furred with the exception of the tubercles at the base of the toes. Their soles in summer are naked.

The black lateral line on the lower side of the body in summer, that generally separates the darker back from the whitish belly, is now concealed by the longer outer guard hairs. Abbot H. Thayer, important art teacher of Louis Agassiz Feurtes, famous U.S. wildlife artist, labeled the coloration of many wild mammals, birds and fish as complete obliterative shading.

Viewed from above, the red squirrel blends in perfectly with tree limbs, bark, the forest floor, or even a stone wall. Viewed from below the white or light gray outsides render the animal inconspicuous by the broken sky pattern of the forest roof.

Their autumnal molt begins in November and is completed by late December. Now the broad rufous dorsal band is most distinct and the red squirrel truly lives up to its name. Native Americans from various parts of this roguish little mammal’s range named him Meeko (our favorite name), Ad-jee-dah-mo, Klee-ay, Kee-hah-chah, Zee-cha, Gid-a-mon and Zee-sin-ko. Eskimos called him Ki-gu-ik. The white man nicknamed him chickaree, boomer, or chatterbox.

Abandoned flicker holes are frequently used as homes but more commonly the nest, tightly wedged between branches, appears to be a good-sized bundle of small sticks and leaves. Finely shredded material, such as cedar bark, is used as the warm insulating lining. These squirrels are known to even use a wad of this lining material as a plug, or door, which can be closed to keep out the cold.

Red squirrels do not hibernate. However, they are known on occasion to remain in their nests for two or three days at a time when the temperature plunges well below zero and remains there. It is then that their caches of food are of great value. Seeds, nuts, dried fruits and even dehydrated mushrooms help them survive the icy blasts of January and February.

One of our greatest delights in observing these impetuous creatures, outside of marveling at their volleys of chatter, comes when they tunnel beneath the snow. I see no reason why red squirrels can’t have fun just as do people. In fact I am convinced they thoroughly love to "snow plow" through the soft fluffy drifts. Apparently they do not bring any snow to the surface when they make their tunnels but rather pack it against the walls. Come spring the honeycomb-like maze of chambers and tunnels, iced from constant use, resists melting and reveals the squirrels’ "subway system."

It is in ordinary winters, when they are welcome residents of our woods, that these denizens of the northern forest, lovable little leprechauns known to so charmingly and perpetually disregard all ordinary customs, will have again proven to rank high among our wild wintertime entertainers.


This column appeared in the Door County Advocate on 02/28/2003.
© Copyright 2003 Roy Lukes. All rights reserved.