Squirrels Never Learn

A few months ago, a squirrel got trapped in the pipes running along the wall outside my office window. It went nuts, squeaking and struggling, until I went outside and pried the pipe back with a stick so it could get out.

You would think the squirrel would communicate its experiences to its friends as a cautionary tale: don't stick your head behind the pipes.

Or maybe it did, and not all of the squirrels got cc'd. A few minutes ago, another squirrel got trapped behind the same pipes. Cacophony ensued. I hunted around the office and found an umbrella to use as a lever.

I went outside. There was a second squirrel sitting on the pipe behind which the first squirrel was trapped. It chirped at me. Not random noise; there was a discernable pattern. I ignored it and set about trying to pry the pipe back.

I looked up to see if the squirrel had gotten out. Whaddaya know? Five more squirrels had appeared. They perched along the edge of the rooftop overlooking my office. They were arranged in precise, five-foot increments.

My guess is the squirrel wasn't chirping at me. It was sending out the squirrel distress call. I didn't know they were like groundhogs or meerkats -- I'd never seen communal behavior in squirrels before. Now I have been enlightened.

Which makes me wonder... why aren't squirrels kept as pets? Uncle Billy had one in It's a Wonderful Life. But I don't think I've ever seen a domesticated squirrel in real life, and I used to work in a pet store. Why cats, but not squirrels?