Spring is sprung, temperatures are (for the moment) well above freezing, sap riseth and green shoots peek out everywhere. But for critters used to more concentrated food sources, it will be some while yet before flowers, eggs, pupae and other rich dishes are again widely available. So the persistence of this squirrel in clawing up a silicone-slick plastic window-frame and—after several falls—squashing itself into a “squirrel proof” feeder is not so surprising.
Somewhat more remarkable is the pain this animal is willing to suffer for its pleasure: with these sunflower hearts are mixed an almost equal volume of mammal deterrent. The proprietor of a local Indian grocery store, asked for the hottest chili powder in stock, proffered a bag marked “XXX” with some Hindi script in warning red. Queried “Is there anything even hotter?” she took a long look at the customer, shook her head, and retrieved from the back room a box of something presumably still more incendiary.
It takes squirrels here about a month of hard winter to nose into such a mix. (Birds are not affected by capsaicin, and like early Mesoamericans, may even benefit from the extra vitamins.) Then, if the food be worth it, they tuck in—afterward furiously brushing face and whiskers free of the red scourge.
Perhaps they become accustomed to the kind of endorphin rush that brings some humans back to habanero and bhut jolokia? Perhaps this ordeal has taken its place among sciurid rites-of-passage? Or perhaps they are just very devoted to collecting calories for the benefit of soon-to-arrive offspring.