A Serpent In The Garden

In the almost four years that we have lived in Southwest Michigan, I have never seen a snake on our property. So you can imagine my excitement when I walked outside this afternoon and came across this on our driveway:


I happen to love snakes and greatly respect the role they play in the eco-system. Just this summer, I had expressed my disappointment to someone that so far snakes hadn't been a part of our wildlife repertoire here at A House In The Woods. Now that one had finally shown up, I was practically tripping over myself with excitement as I ran back inside to grab my camera.

Racing back to the driveway, I was relieved to find my snake exactly where I'd left it. At first, because of its flared head (see below), thick body, sluggish movements and tapering tail, I thought this might be a young Eastern Massasauga Rattlesnake, Michigan's only venomous snake, and a rare sight indeed. Keeping a respectful distance, I tried to locate the telltale rattles on its tail but couldn't discern any.

After snapping several pics, I stepped back to observe this beautiful creature for some minutes as it made its sluggish way in the direction of the garden. Its middle looked somewhat distended, as if it recently had enjoyed a meal (an unfortunate toad or baby vole, perhaps?) From time to time it flattened its head and curled the tip of its tail, as if warning me to keep clear. Here are some more images:








I finally managed to tear myself away long enough to go inside and look up the Michigan DNR's website. While my snake looked sort of like a Massasauga, it also sort of didn't. The shape and thickness were similar to a young Massasauga's, but the pattern was somewhat off.

Here's a photo of the Eastern Massasauga from the Michigan DNR website:

Since I couldn't decide conclusively that this snake and mine were one and the same, I scrolled down to the list of lookalike snakes and found this:


This is the Eastern Hog-nosed Snake. According to the Michigan DNR website, the Eastern Hog-nosed Snake also is thick bodied, slow moving and will flare its head, coil and even strike.

Compare the photo of the Eastern Hog-nosed Snake with the photos of my snake and it's obviously a match. A little more about the Eastern Hog-nosed, from the Michigan DNR website:

A snake of open, sandy woodlands - found in the wooded dunes of western Michigan. The upturned snout is used to burrow after toads, a favorite food. When threatened, hognose snakes puff up with air, flatten their necks and bodies, and hiss loudly. (This has led to local names like "puff adder" or "hissing viper.") If this act is unsuccessful, they will writhe about, excrete a foul smelling musk, and then turn over with mouth agape and lie still, as though dead. Despite this intimidating behavior, Hog-nosed snakes are harmless to humans.

"Wooded dunes perfectly describes our backyard habitat and it's almost impossible to walk a few steps without stumbling over a toad, so it looks like my snake has found a perfect Garden of Eden here. Welcome, Mr. Hog-nosed!

Kickin' It With The Cat

I forgot to mention that Tony Peanut also likes to to hang out with our cat.



You can't see her in these photos, but the cat is sitting behind the screen in the balcony window.



I often find him sunning himself there in the late afternoon. The cat knows Tony and sits in the window mewing and purring when she sees him. She really seems to like his company!

Like most things about Tony Peanut, I am both mystified and intrigued by this behavior. He really is a one-of-a-kind squirrel!

Squirrel Meets Puppy

Once the excitement of bringing a new puppy home had subsided, we wondered what effect this would have on Tony Peanut. Since Milo's crate is next to the back door and close to the peanut bowl, it wouldn't take long for Tony to become aware of the newest family member. When two or three days had gone by with no sign of our resident squirrel, we worried that he'd seen us taking the puppy out on walks and had decided the backyard wasn't big enough for both of them.

But on the fourth day after Milo's homecoming Tony was at his usual post. Happily, I welcomed him back with peanut after peanut handed through the door while Milo watched quietly from his crate.

It wasn't clear if Tony knew about Milo yet. So I opened the door wider, stepped back and waited to see what would happen. Would Tony's natural instinct warn him to steer clear of potential danger? Or would the lure of the peanut bowl override his better judgment?

The peanut bowl won. The historical moment is captured below.

As Tony scoots toward the peanut bowl, he spots the puppy for the first time. Milo calmly gazes out at Tony, as if being sized up by a demented black squirrel is the most natural thing in the world!

Tony grabs a peanut, sits back and leisurely cracks it open as he assesses the situation. He seems to know that he's perfectly safe as long as Milo is in his crate!


A week later, business is still brisk at the peanut bowl, and Milo has become canis non grata as far as Tony is concerned. Judging from the look of things, Milo couldn't care less.

Reaping His Reward

On Sunday, I decided to tag along on a two-day business trip with Mr. Michigander.

As we drove to the job site two states away, both of us wondered how Tony Peanut would react to our absence. It was the first time in months that both of us would be away from home at the same time for more than a day, so we really didn't know what to expect. Would severe peanut withdrawal set in? Would Tony's dreaded other alter ego Squirrelly Brain be unleashed upon our empty house and allow no window screen to remain unmolested ?

When we returned home last night, the house and window screens were just as we'd left them. Feeling a little guilty, I offered Tony unlimited "all-you-can-eat" access to the peanut bowl today. He happily accepted.

Catching Some Rays

Now that the storm has passed, it's time to preen a bit, fluff up those feathers, enjoy a dust bath and soak up some rays!

Whoops...Mama Turkey has spotted me. Gathering up her poults, she stalks off with them in tow to find a little privacy.

The poults have grown rapidly and now resemble miniature versions of Mama. These youngsters will soon be approaching the end of their brief childhood. In the fall, the male poults will leave their mother to join the male flock, while the female poults will remain with Mama until the following spring. At that time, they'll be ready to breed--and the cycle will continue.

The Opportunist

Tony Peanut has been arriving later than usual these past few mornings. And Brindle the Opportunist has taken note.

Squirrel society has a well-defined social hierarchy. Squirrels are not social creatures and not very tolerant of each other or any other critters that share their turf. The only time squirrels come together voluntarily is to mate or to share winter dens for warmth.

Among the 30 or so squirrels we know at A House In The Woods, it quickly becomes apparent who stands where on the squirrel social totem pole. Tony is the Big Chief Kahuna at the top. Brindle is farther down this totem pole--way at the bottom.

Brindle spends most of his time lurking in the woods just behind the deck, waiting for his chance. The moment Tony runs off to bury a peanut or to catch a siesta in his favorite tree, Brindle creeps up to the deck for a handout.

Brinny is an especially timid squirrel. Even after months of taking peanuts from my hand, he is skittish and needs time to work up his courage. This invariably is his downfall, because just as Brindle is tucking into his peanut, an enraged Tony shows up. With an infuriated rush and a good many nips, he chases Brinny off the deck and back into the woods, squealing all the way.

The moment Tony leaves, Brindle is back again. Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

Sometimes, in a brazen act of unthinking foolishness, Brindle scampers up for a peanut right under Tony's nose, with predictable results. Brinny gets his pants kicked and is once again sent packing, empty-handed He may not be too bright, but he sure is brave!

Brindle isn't the only offender, but he is the most persistent. And it annoys Tony to no end that Brindle just refuses to learn his place!

It's good to be the king--but it's not easy when someone is trying to steal your nuts!

Life's Good When You're Tony Peanut

It's an impossibly beautiful Sunday with Chicago-blue skies and temps in the upper 70's/lower 80's. I'm going to follow Tony's example and spend an hour or so in the hammock with a good book.

Life is good indeed!

Home Invader

Since January, I've been volunteering at a local senior citizens' home. Today I offered to host their monthly Ice Cream Social. During the hour that I was gone, Tony Peanut decided to just pop in and help himself.

When I returned home, I found him sitting on the window seat nibbling away as if he owned the place. Discarded shells were scattered in little piles around him on the bench and across the window sill.

Tony had managed to gnaw his way through the remaining window screen while I was gone. The moment he realized I was home, he dropped the peanut and made a half-hearted attempt to leave the same way he'd come in. Then he changed his mind and went right back to his peanut!

Judging from evidence left at the crime scene, Tony had already made numerous trips back and forth to the peanut bowl in the kitchen. One by one, he'd carried peanuts back to the living room to eat. Tony might be a home invader and a thief but at least he's a fastidious one. Both rooms were left surprisingly neat, other than the piles of peanut shells. Even the hole in the screen was neat--and only just big enough for him to squeeze through (you can see it in the second photo).

I opened the back door and out Tony went--that is, once he'd had his fill of peanuts! I quickly put back the missing screen so Tony wouldn't be able to climb into the window again. Five minutes later I looked up from my computer and--surprise!--there he was, sitting on the window bench watching me. He'd managed to reach the window anyway and climb inside again!

I opened the back door and shooed Tony out (he never got near the peanut bowl this time). Then I closed and locked both windows. For now, they'll stay closed until I figure out how to keep Tony from climbing in or until he simply loses interest in them.

Moral of this story? Never underestimate a squirrel's determination to get to that peanut bowl!