Return of my furry nemesis ...

Last weekend I decided that it was time to dust off all my bird-feeding kit, get it all tanked up with birdie tucker and back in the trees. It's not been desperately cold or anything like that, but it just felt like it was time to get the winter-feeders back in action. And I have to admit that it's not an entirely altruistic activity: I get a huge kick out of seeing all the little critters who come to my back garden for dinner.

I've got fat balls, niger seed, peanuts, mealworms and a high-in-everything seed mix all suspended from the branches of the trees. At first the local furred and feathered fraternity were a bit suspicious of all the goodies that appeared out of nowhere. But a chattering flock of greedy, green parakeets soon broke the ice.

And then this morning this little guy showed up, and spent a long time doing reconnaissance along the garden wall. I'm sure he's got a spy camera and a little notebook squirrelled away under his arm, and that he's been busy taking photos and licking this pencil to make surreptitious notes when he thinks nobody's watching. He's got a disarming habit of sitting directly opposite my kitchen window and peering in as though he's casing the joint.

It's hard to tell with squirrels - they all look alike - (they probably say the same about us) but this one looks like Slinky Paws, a devious trickster who developed a taste for my fat balls last year, and frequently made off with the whole shooting match just for himself.  He'd got his slash and grab technique polished off to a fine art form by the time last winter ended. I used to stand with my morning coffee watching him in open-mouthed awe as he made off with yet another fat ball between his teeth. He must have hidden away enough cholesterol to fry a tonne of chips in by the time spring arrived. Little wonder he developed a rolling gait and a portly tummy.

So, Slinky, if it's you, consider your card marked. I'll be watching.

All the best for now,

 Bonny x