A week ago, I hung this nifty squirrel-smart bird feeder from an existing hook on the eave of my shed out back. It hangs from just a basic coated wire loop connected to each side of the lid, which lifts for refills. The feeder is fairly heavy on its own; the perches are all thick metal, as is the base and lid. Add seed to the inside and it’s got some decent heft to it. This is not the kind of feeder that can be whipped up and tossed around by a light breeze.
So when I woke up Saturday and saw that the feeder was gone, I immediately thought OH MY GOD THERE ARE ROAMING BANDS OF BIRD-FEEDER THIEVES IN MY NEIGHBORHOOD. But then the part of my brain that keeps the kneejerk crazy in check* kicked in a realized that my back yard is completely enclosed and the gate stays padlocked so, most likely, there had been some crazy wind overnight and the feeder just got carried away. Heh. Carried away.
I put some slippers on and found it lying beside a nearby bush. The hook was still intact on the eave. Weird. I hung up the feeder and went on my merry way, and didn’t really think much more of it.
Until this morning, when I woke up and it was gone again. This time I had to hunt for it, as it had landed several feet further from the hook, nestled in some ivy at the base of a tree. The hook remained intact and unmoved.
So now I’m left wondering what’s lifting this thing up off the hook and carrying it several feet from where it’s supposed to hang. The only thing I can think of — aside from brilliant squirrel scientists and their beefy minions — is that the birds are banding together like they did in Cinderella, and lifting it off the hook together, then dashing it against the fence in the hopes that it will crack open and spill seeds everywhere.
I’m open to less insane explanations.
Update 3/16: Today I woke up and the feeder was once again gone. This time I found it a good 15 feet away from the hook, PAST a big leafy bush it would have had to travel over or around. The feeder’s a trooper, though; in all this being bashed around, the lid has not once cracked open (knock wood). I guess what I need to do is figure out a way to enclose the hook.
* Another example of the knee-jerk crazy: When Amanda was over the other night, we were sitting on the couch — which happens to be hers and Brandon’s, on loan to me) watching a movie and we heard a thud from within the couch. I immediately hopped up and practically screamed, “IS THERE SOMETHING IN THIS COUCH?!” at her. Because, you know, it was way more likely to be a small raccoon waking up from his couch hibernation than it was a spring popping or the TV remote dropping between the cushions (the latter of which was the actual cause of the noise).
Weird, yes. I vote for a squirrelly-cam.
The couch story = me laughing hysterically in my office. Mostly b/c it reminded me of this one time at band camp, er, I mean in college, when i swear to god something touched me on the shoulder and i jumped 5 feet. Knee-jerk crazy indeed. Heh.
My vote is Raccoons, they can both climb and lift. I watched one do this out my window one night….the next night it broke the feeder when I scared it off. Hang it on something the animal can’t climb like metal, they can’t dig their claws in. Good luck!
F, so I’m not the only knee-jerk crazy lady in the room? Sweet. Reminds me of one time I had my hair in pigtails and I was driving and one pigtail tickled my neck in a way that was just too much, and I damn near caused a six-lane pileup with my freakout. Why do they let us out of the house? Why?
M, DING DING DING I wish I had a prize to give to you for getting it right. Those brilliant little bethumbed bastards are controlling my life now: I have to put the feeder out when I wake up and put it in the shed when I go to work. Un. Believable.