By Steve Flairty
NKyTribune columnist
“We could see the squirrels as they came closer, jumping from tree to tree, bridging the sometimes incredibly long distances between the trees with their outstretched bodies . . . As we crept closer, I saw that the top of the largest hickory was “alive” with squirrels. I counted five gray squirrels before they began crossing through each other and jumbling up the count, just one short of that mythical limit I was always chasing.” — By Ron Ellis, adapted from “Daybreak,” in Cogan’s Woods
In last week’s column, I shared some of what I learned about one of Kentucky’s most popular state symbols, the state bird. That would be the Northern Cardinal, an attractive songbird that six other states also claim as their own, and one that exudes positivity.
Another living, breathing symbol, referred to as Kentucky’s “state wild game animal” or simply “state animal,” is the gray squirrel, or more properly, Eastern Gray Squirrel. It’s found all over the state in wooded areas and is also quite common in Kentuckians’ yards, especially where a few trees abound. Easily recognizable, gray squirrels have gray fur, a white belly and a bushy tail.
The gray squirrel generally feeds on nuts, seeds, fruits, and insects, providing them with more than adequate energy and nutrition. Simply watching the squirrel’s dynamic actions for just a few minutes demonstrates the animal’s need for a solid fuel source. Its body length is between 22 to 25 centimeters, and the tail is about the same. Weight is 400 to 600 grams.
If one looks carefully at the critter, it shouldn’t take long to see at least some resemblance to the members of the rodent family of which they are some of the largest members. Gray squirrels are known to be intelligent and plan well, and they reportedly have resided in North America for over 37 million years. They particularly are found east of the Mississippi River, making Kentucky an ideal place for them to live and thrive. In the fall, they typically gather their nuts and seeds and hide them for the winter. They are relentless in their food prep, not stopping until reaching sufficiency.
The ubiquitous animal, as Ron Ellis hints in his Cogan’s Woods memoir, has historically been a food source for humans in America’s frontier, and in the Appalachian region, a food staple. It has protein and fat, and the meat is considered flavorful and has versatility for cooking methods.
The Kentucky General Assembly designated the Eastern Gray Squirrel as the state’s official wild game species on June 13, 1968. And why not? It certainly has made its mark, and for a long time.
I asked Tim Farmer, long-time host of the popular KET outdoors program, Kentucky Afield, about reasons for his obvious appreciation for the gray squirrel. Though he has harvested many over the years, providing, as he is wont to say, “meat for the freezer,” he recently has stayed away from hunting them and has settled into simply observing and admiring them most of the time. Much of his squirrel knowledge comes from hundreds of hours spent in a blind or tree stand generally “watching wildlife,” he said. Frequently there is a host of gray squirrels around where he sits quietly.
“You kind of get to know who they are and what they are going to do… the chatter they make, (and) what it means when they make a certain sound when they are sitting on a branch.”
And they are joyful to watch, Tim noted. “They love to play. They have a language. They have ‘structured’ societies. They’re humorous. They chase each other up trees,” Tim said with a grin.
Then he told the story of a squirrel appeared to be attached to Tim—literally. It all started at the Game Farm, in Frankfort, early in his career with the Kentucky Department of Fish and Wildlife. “A squirrel came out of this pine tree and jumped on my jacket and just sat there. I’m thinking… ‘does he have rabies? Is he going to stick his teeth in my neck?’”
Tim explained that the Game Farm has often served as a “dumping ground” for wild animals that people have tried to domesticate but then find the process to be troublesome. In this case, he could immediately tell that this critter was both hungry and used to being around humans. Tim, a bit befuddled, drove home with the squirrel nestled on his shoulder and was excited to introduce it to his two young daughters.
The initial meeting proved somewhat adventurous.
“It promptly jumped on one of my girls’ head,” he said, laughing. “Of course, she screamed. This thing was all over the house and we were feeding it peanut butter and whatever we could find. It was the sweetest little animal.”
Now, Tim has adjusted his thinking on the subject. “The more I watched them, the less I wanted to hunt them,” he said, “especially after that one jumped on me and I took it home.”
On sunlit mornings while eating breakfast, my wife and I enjoy watching through our large kitchen windows one or two squirrels frolicking in our yard and in our trees. And while they can have moments being pests — I once dealt with one getting into my attic — we’re inspired by their energy and are glad that they consider our land their land, too. We figure it’s a pretty good representation of Kentucky’s state wild animal symbol.