11 Bushy-Tailed Facts About Eastern Gray Squirrels


If you live in the United States, you’re probably surrounded by these little gray rodents. But how much do you really know about the creatures frolicking through your backyard?

1. Squirrels can be trained. 

When filming Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, Tim Burton wanted his squirrel scene to be as realistic as possible. As a result, he used live animals instead of CGI and brought in animal trainer Steve Vedmore to wrangle the squirrels. It took about 10 months to train and film the animals in action. With an acorn reward system, the trainer was able to transform the squirrels into tiny, furry actors. 

Of course, there were some difficulties. "You are sometimes asked to do the almost impossible," Vedmore said. "The assistant director wanted us to keep a squirrel perfectly still at one point—but they don't do that. They are constantly looking around and searching.

2. They’re sneaky when hiding their nuts …

Squirrels are secretive, deceptive, and suspicious when it comes to their precious trove of acorns. The animals are wary when burying their food, and will sometimes only pretend to hide it if they suspect they are being watched. The paranoid hoarders will dig up and re-hide their snacks several times in an effort to throw off potential thieves. 

The clever rodents are also discerning in what acorns they eat versus what they bury. Red-oak acorns are high in fat and sprout late, so they make ideal candidates for winter storage. White-oak acorns are less nutritious and germinate sooner, so those are often consumed immediately.

3. … And they usually find them

It has long been believed that squirrels forget their hiding places and are forced to rely on smell to retrieve them. Any acorns still lost would have the chance to grow into trees. This misconception was tested in a 1990 study at Princeton University. Researchers allowed squirrels to hide hazelnuts in an outdoor area. After several days, the animals were released to find their nuts, as well as the hidden acorns of others. The subjects were considerably more capable of finding their own nuts, which showed that while squirrels can find food through odor, memory is a more effective method. [PDF

The video above shows a potentially more convincing test: Despite the acorn being well within smelling range, the squirrel test subject continuously chooses the empty cup where the acorn used to be. 

4. Relatives will raise orphan squirrels . 

Squirrels have been observed engaging in altruistic behavior and will sometimes adopt a squirrel pup in need. Through observation and DNA analysis, scientists have discovered that squirrels will sometimes have babies in their nest that are not their own. Despite being solitary creatures, squirrels will raise orphaned babies if they can determine that the pup is closely related

5. Bob Ross had one as a pet.

Bob Ross loved animals and even had a pet squirrel named Peapod. The tiny animal would occasionally accompany Ross on set. 

6. You can’t sneak up on them.

Squirrels’ eyesight is okay—they can see about as well as a person with red-green colorblindness. Their real talent is that their peripheral vision is just as good as their focal vision. That means they don’t need to turn their heads to see what’s going on around them. The animals also see the world through pale yellow lenses, which help cut down on glare. 

7. Cats have nothing on squirrels.

You may think cats are good at landing on their feet, but squirrels can fall from dizzying heights without a scratch on them. They are arboreal creatures, meaning they spend the majority of their time up in the trees. What goes up must come down, and the little animals have developed a special way to survive falling out of a tree, in case they misjudge the strength of a branch. By spreading out their bodies and puffing their tails, squirrels can catch more air and slow down their fall

As if that wasn't enough, squirrels can also purr. After a baby squirrel fell out of its nest in Mississippi, a kindly cat adopted it. The little impostor learned how to purr just like a kitten.

8. Their tail wagging sends a message.

Squirrels use their bushy tails for a variety of reasons. The built-in blanket keeps them warm in the winter, and provides shade in the summer. Tails also work as an effective means of communication: if you see a squirrel sitting still but wagging their tail, they’re sending a message. The general gist is: "Stay away!" When upset or wary of predators, the tail works to warn others in the area of danger. It’s also used as a territorial warning to keep other squirrels away from their precious acorn supply.  

9. Squirrels can live to see their 20th birthdays.

Squirrels live a long time. In the wild, their lifespan is about 12 years (assuming nothing eats them). In captivity, they can survive to be 20 years old. In comparison, eastern chipmunks can live to be eight, but most don’t make it past their third birthday

10. Meat is (occasionally) on the menu.

Many view the squirrel as an adorable herbivore that lives on a steady diet of acorns. In truth, squirrels are omnivores and will eat meat as it becomes available. In the spring and summer, squirrels will incorporate insects and stolen eggs into their diet. The scavengers will also occasionally eat road kill or dead birds they come across. In the winter, ice will sometimes prevent squirrels from reaching their cache of acorns, so who could blame them for getting a little creative? 

11. They make nests 

Squirrels are known for their dens in tree cavities, but sometimes they take a page from the birds’ handbook and build a nest. The clumpy looking nests are made with twigs, leaves, and moss. Sometimes, they'll add some flair with paper or candy wrappers. The inside is lined with soft grass and leaves to cushion their babies.

Despite their appearance, squirrel nests are actually quite sturdy. “From the ground, most leaf nests look small and flimsy, although a closer examination shows that they are by no means so frail as they appear,” says biologist Durward Allen. “On several occasions after a rain I evicted a squirrel and found its nest to be dry and warm.”

BONUS: You can send your friend a squirrel-gram.

If you have a friend about to turn 21, then you might want to warn them about the dangers of alcohol. Luckily Penn State has created an adorable PSA featuring squirrels in birthday hats. You can find the cautionary birthday e-card here (warning: there’s sound).

Tony Karumba, AFP/Getty Images
How a Pregnant Rhino Named Victoria Could Save an Entire Subspecies
Sudan, the last male member of the northern white rhino subspecies, while being shipped to Kenya in 2009
Sudan, the last male member of the northern white rhino subspecies, while being shipped to Kenya in 2009
Tony Karumba, AFP/Getty Images

The last male northern white rhino died at a conservancy in Kenya earlier this year, prompting fears that the subspecies was finally done for after decades of heavy poaching. Scientists say there's still hope, though, and they're banking on a pregnant rhino named Victoria at the San Diego Zoo, according to the Associated Press.

Victoria is actually a southern white rhino, but the two subspecies are related. Only two northern white rhinos survive, but neither of the females in Kenya are able to reproduce. Victoria was successfully impregnated through artificial insemination, and if she successfully carries her calf to term in 16 to 18 months, scientists say she might be able to serve as a surrogate mother and propagate the northern white rhino species.

But how would that work if no male northern rhinos survive? As the AP explains, scientists are working to recreate northern white rhino embryos using genetic technology. The San Diego Zoo Institute for Conservation Research has the frozen cell lines of 12 different northern white rhinos, which can be transformed into stem cells—and ultimately, sperm and eggs. The sperm of the last northern white male rhino, Sudan, was also saved before he died.

Scientists have been monitoring six female southern white rhinos at the San Diego Zoo to see if any emerge as likely candidates for surrogacy. However, it's not easy to artificially inseminate a rhino, and there have been few successful births in the past. There's still a fighting chance, though, and scientists ultimately hope they'll be able to build up a herd of five to 15 northern white rhinos over the next few decades.

[h/t Time Magazine]

(c) Field Museum, CSZ5974c, photographer Carl Akeley, used with permission.
The Time Carl Akeley Killed a Leopard With His Bare Hands
(c) Field Museum, CSZ5974c, photographer Carl Akeley, used with permission.
(c) Field Museum, CSZ5974c, photographer Carl Akeley, used with permission.

Carl Akeley had plenty of close encounters with animals in his long career as a naturalist and taxidermist. There was the time a bull elephant had charged him on Mount Kenya, nearly crushing him; the time he was unarmed and charged by three rhinos who missed him, he said later, only because the animals had such poor vision; and the time the tumbling body of a silverback gorilla he'd just shot almost knocked him off a cliff. This dangerous tradition began on his very first trip to Africa, where, on an otherwise routine hunting trip, the naturalist became the prey.

It was 1896. Following stints at Ward’s Natural Science Establishment and the Milwaukee Public Museum, Akeley, 32, had just been appointed chief taxidermist for Chicago’s Field Museum of Natural History, and he was tasked with gathering new specimens to bolster the 3-year-old museum's fledgling collections. After more than four months of travel and numerous delays, the expedition had reached the plains of Ogaden, a region of Ethiopia, where Akeley hunted for specimens for days without success.

Then, one morning, Akeley managed to shoot a hyena shortly after he left camp. Unfortunately, “one look at his dead carcass was enough to satisfy me that he was not as desirable as I had thought, for his skin was badly diseased,” he later wrote in his autobiography, In Brightest Africa. He shot a warthog, a fine specimen, but what he really wanted was an ostrich—so he left the carcass behind, climbed a termite hill to look for the birds, then took off after a pair he saw in the tall grass.

But the ostriches eluded him at every turn, so he returned to camp and grabbed the necessary tools to cut off the head of his warthog. However, when he and a “pony boy” got to the spot where he’d left the carcass, all that remained was a bloodstain. “A crash in the bushes at one side led me in a hurry in that direction and a little later I saw my pig's head in the mouth of a hyena travelling up the slope of a ridge out of range,” Akeley wrote. “That meant that my warthog specimen was lost, and, having got no ostriches, I felt it was a pretty poor day.”

As the sun began to set, Akeley and the boy turned back to camp. “As we came near to the place where I had shot the diseased hyena in the morning, it occurred to me that perhaps there might be another hyena about the carcass, and feeling a bit ‘sore’ at the tribe for stealing my warthog, I thought I might pay off the score by getting a good specimen of a hyena for the collections,” he wrote. But that carcass was gone, too, with a drag trail in the sand leading into the bush.

Akeley heard a sound, and, irritated, “did a very foolish thing,” firing into the bush without seeing what he was shooting at. He knew, almost immediately, that he'd made a mistake: The answering snarl told him that what he’d fired at was not a hyena at all, but a leopard.

The taxidermist began thinking of all the things he knew about the big cats. A leopard, he wrote,

“... has all the qualities that gave rise to the ‘nine lives’ legend: To kill him you have got to kill him clear to the tip of his tail. Added to that, a leopard, unlike a lion, is vindictive. A wounded leopard will fight to a finish practically every time, no matter how many chances it has to escape. Once aroused, its determination is fixed on fight, and if a leopard ever gets hold, it claws and bites until its victim is in shreds. All this was in my mind, and I began looking about for the best way out of it, for I had no desire to try conclusions with a possibly wounded leopard when it was so late in the day that I could not see the sights of my rifle.”

Akeley beat a hasty retreat. He’d return the next morning, he figured, when he could see better; if he’d wounded the leopard, he could find it again then. But the leopard had other ideas. It pursued him, and Akeley fired again, even though he couldn’t see enough to aim. “I could see where the bullets struck as the sand spurted up beyond the leopard. The first two shots went above her, but the third scored. The leopard stopped and I thought she was killed.”

The leopard had not been killed. Instead, she charged—and Akeley’s magazine was empty. He reloaded the rifle, but as he spun to face the leopard, she leapt on him, knocking it out of his hands. The 80-pound cat landed on him. “Her intention was to sink her teeth into my throat and with this grip and her forepaws hang to me while with her hind claws she dug out my stomach, for this pleasant practice is the way of leopards,” Akeley wrote. “However, happily for me, she missed her aim.” The wounded cat had landed to one side; instead of Akeley’s throat in her mouth, she had his upper right arm, which had the fortuitous effect of keeping her hind legs off his stomach.

It was good luck, but the fight of Akeley’s life had just begun.

Using his left hand, he attempted to loosen the leopard’s hold. “I couldn't do it except little by little,” he wrote. “When I got grip enough on her throat to loosen her hold just a little she would catch my arm again an inch or two lower down. In this way I drew the full length of the arm through her mouth inch by inch.”

He felt no pain, he wrote, “only of the sound of the crushing of tense muscles and the choking, snarling grunts of the beast.” When his arm was nearly free, Akeley fell on the leopard. His right hand was still in her mouth, but his left hand was still on her throat. His knees were on her chest and his elbows in her armpits, “spreading her front legs apart so that the frantic clawing did nothing more than tear my shirt.”

It was a scramble. The leopard tried to twist around and gain the advantage, but couldn’t get purchase on the sand. “For the first time,” Akeley wrote, “I began to think and hope I had a chance to win this curious fight.”

He called for the boy, hoping he’d bring a knife, but received no response. So he held on to the animal and “continued to shove the hand down her throat so hard she could not close her mouth and with the other I gripped her throat in a stranglehold.” He bore down with his full weight on her chest, and felt a rib crack. He did it again—another crack. “I felt her relax, a sort of letting go, although she was still struggling. At the same time I felt myself weakening similarly, and then it became a question as to which would give up first.”

Slowly, her struggle ceased. Akeley had won. He lay there for a long time, keeping the leopard in his death grip. “After what seemed an interminable passage of time I let go and tried to stand, calling to the pony boy that it was finished.” The leopard, he later told Popular Science Monthly, had then shown signs of life; Akeley used the boy’s knife to make sure it was really, truly dead.

Akeley’s arm was shredded, and he was weak—so weak that he couldn’t carry the leopard back to camp. “And then a thought struck me that made me waste no time,” he told Popular Science. “That leopard has been eating the horrible diseased hyena I had killed. Any leopard bite is liable to give one blood poison, but this particular leopard’s mouth must have been exceptionally foul.”

He and the boy must have been quite the sight when they finally made it back to camp. His companions had heard the shots, and figured Akeley had either faced off with a lion or the natives; whatever the scenario, they figured Akeley would prevail or be defeated before they could get to him, so they kept on eating dinner. But when Akeley appeared, with “my clothes ... all ripped, my arm ... chewed into an unpleasant sight, [with] blood and dirt all over me,” he wrote in In Brightest Africa, “my appearance was quite sufficient to arrest attention.”

He demanded all the antiseptics the camp had to offer. After he'd been washed with cold water, “the antiseptic was pumped into every one of the innumerable tooth wounds until my arm was so full of the liquid that an injection in one drove it out of another,” he wrote. “During the process I nearly regretted that the leopard had not won.”

When that was done, Akeley was taken to his tent, and the dead leopard was brought in and laid out next to his cot. Her right hind leg was wounded—which, he surmised, had come from his first shot into the brush, and was what had thrown off her pounce—and she had a flesh wound in the back of her neck where his last shot had hit her, “from the shock of which she had instantly recovered.”

Not long after his close encounter with the leopard, the African expedition was cut short when its leader contracted malaria, and Akeley returned to Chicago. The whole experience, he wrote to a friend later, transported him back to a particular moment at the 1893 World’s Columbian Exposition, which he’d visited after creating taxidermy mounts for the event. “As I struggled to wrest my arm from the mouth of the leopard I recalled vividly a bronze at the World’s Columbian Exposition in Chicago, depicting the struggle between a man and bear, the man’s arm in the mouth of the bear,” he wrote. “I had stood in front of this bronze one afternoon with a doctor friend and we discussed the probable sensations of a man in this predicament, wondering whether or not the man would be sensible to the pain of the chewing and the rending of his flesh by the bear. I was thinking as the leopard tore at me that now I knew exactly what the sensations were, but that unfortunately I would not live to tell my doctor friend.”

In the moment, though, there had been no pain, “just the joy of a good fight,” Akeley wrote, “and I did live to tell my [doctor] friend all about it.”

Additional source: Kingdom Under Glass: A Tale of Obsession, Adventure, and One Man's Quest to Preserve the World's Great Animals


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