It amazes me how wildlife recognizes humans, even by name.
Two years past a sweet chipmunk moved into my garden. She was long in body with a very pointy face. She also cleared out the bird feeder in minutes. Hence the name of Hoover.
That year she disappeared for a month later returning with four babies. That was a year!
She returned last year minus the babes and her stay was here and there.
This year a wee one took residence and while it dined on sunflower seeds it scurried off when I appeared.
I resigned myself to Hoovers absence due to nature taking its course or the neighbours feckin’ cats catching her.
An August day I was on the patio and heard a familiar thump. Turning to watch the cushion box there was recognizable snoot peering out looking up at me. I had always sowed seed near it so she had a quick escape.
“Hoover? Is that you?” I whispered. No sooner had I spoke her name, she was out and ran over to me. I felt overwhelmed with the magic of the moment. I’m sure she said in chipmunk language, “Human! Is this you my favourite of all humans?!?”
Ever since when I see her either scurrying about on the patio, bouncing along the pergola or climbing the old walnut tree I whistle, call her name and she runs to greet me. Of course there is always a special fill of seed waiting for her.
One of these years she won’t greet me and that’s OK. At least I’ve had the enjoyment of her company, where she felt safe and I was her care taker.
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Don't be shy. I know you've popped by :)