Author Nancy Crowe

Negotiating with squirrels yields nuttin’

Nancy Crowe
Photo by StevenW/Flickr
Photo by Nancy Crowe

Can an animal communicator persuade squirrels to cease and desist garden destruction? So far, I cannot.

The squirrels have 80-90 percent of our backyard sanctuary at their disposal. They have places to hide from predators, a regularly refilled water dish, a steady supply of peanuts and ample room to bury their nuts. Yet they persist in digging holes in my garden beds … even burrowing under the chicken wire cloches anchored there specifically to thwart them.

“Guys, please leave these alone,” I asked them calmly, picturing and pointing to the raised beds and containers in the corner. Then I did the same with the rest of the yard: “The rest of this abundant and suitable space is fair game. I’ll share the carrots and sweet potatoes if you let them grow.”

No deal.

Part of it is that wild animals do not have the same stake in communicating and working with us humans as their domestic counterparts. Their instinct to dig, devour and bury will override any benefit they might see in cooperating with a two-legged gardener. Sure I could threaten to cut off their benefits, put out poison or set traps if they keep disturbing the beds, but I would never follow through.

So I toss out the peanuts well away from the vegetable beds, say “bon appetit” and add “you blasted bushy-tailed vandals” under my breath.

And I continue to work on humane exclusion and deterrent methods, knowing I’m in their back yard just as much they’re in mine.

Remaining a trainable human

Nancy Crowe
Photo by Nancy Crowe

The monthly application of flea/tick/heartworm preventive to the back of our cats’ necks is one of their least favorite things. It’s one of those tough tasks I counsel my animal communication clients to approach with calm, firm deliberation. Respectful handling is key to Fear Free for vet clinics, shelters, groomers and more.

Yet sometimes we fail to follow through on what we know. A couple of months ago, for reasons I don’t even remember, I was in a hurry. With applicator in hand, I quickly went to Lucy, bent over her and dripped the liquid onto the back of her neck. She shot me a look of reproach — and worse, hurt — and ran off.

I instantly regretted how I had administered the medication. There was no rough handling, but my “We’re getting this done. Now.” approach didn’t ease the process for Lucy or bolster her trust in me. My disappointment at having ignored my own advice, training and experience was secondary.

Nevertheless, Lucy accepted the treats I offered immediately afterward, along with an apology.

Later that day, when the stress of the moment had had a chance to wear off a bit, I invited her to join my yoga practice, something we both enjoy. For the most part she offers a classically feline “you call that a stretch?” glance and settles on a nearby chair. On this day, when she padded into the room, I told Lucy I knew better and would do better. She joined me on the yoga mat and purred.

When the time came for the next month’s dose, I took a second to remember what I knew. That’s obvious, yet so easy not to do.

I carefully approached Lucy, picked her up and held her for a moment. “I know you don’t like this, but we can manage,” I said, keeping my breathing even. I set her down on her cat tree where I could steady her without having to bend over her. I took another breath, squeezed on the topical medication and gently set her on the floor. Again she hurried off, stopping only briefly for treats.

I moved on to the day’s next task, assembling a glass terrarium to keep our other cat from nibbling on the smaller houseplants (a story for another day). I sat cross-legged on the floor with the base, sides, doors and instructions spread out, along with the enclosed bag of bolts and other itty bitty parts.

Within a few minutes, in strolled Lucy. She sniffed at the new materials on the floor, then climbed into my lap and curled up, purring.

Cats like trainable humans.

Solo practitioners: Avoid payment scams

Nancy Crowe
Image by Thomas Breher from Pixabay

There was no suspicious link, no Nigerian prince, no call from someone claiming to be a grandchild in trouble. This scam was new to me, and in the end I didn’t fall for it — but there were several red flags that could have saved me some time. Maybe they’ll save you some time, heartache or money.

Long story short: A person emailed me through my website and booked distant Let Animals Lead® animal Reiki sessions for her dogs, for which she said she’d pay by check. I normally don’t take checks for my animal work, especially from new clients. However, there was enough time to cancel if the check didn’t arrive, so I reluctantly agreed. Then she said she’d accidentally cut the check for $4,300 instead of the $430 she owed. Would I please deposit the check and send her back the difference? After asking my partner if this sounded suspicious – and her saying yes – I told the person no.

Now let’s look at the many red flags here:

1) The person contacted me through my website asking about my services, when that information was easy to find on said website.

2) She said she’d be paying by check. Even if she had asked if I take checks instead of telling me that’s how she was paying, I should have politely refused.

3) She emailed me an hour or two later to say she’d mistakenly cut a check for a much larger amount than what she owed. Since she “couldn’t write another check for a while,” would I deposit the check and send back the difference? Evidently this is known as a check overpayment scam; the check will be fake, but by the time the bank discovers it’s fake, the scammer already has the money you sent. Then you’re on the hook repaying the bank.

4) When I said I wouldn’t do that, and again asked her to pay through PayPal, she said she wasn’t permitted to use any third party apps because of a charge back dispute. If that was supposed to get me to let my guard down, she needs to go back to Scammer School.

5) She then dug in, saying she really wanted these sessions for her dogs: “So please once you receive the check, you’re going to deduct your fee from it and send the balance.” Again, a legitimate client — or at least a client I would want to work with — would not say this.

That’s when I repeated my “no,” cancelled the sessions and ended the interaction.

I have to admit wondering why anyone would bother to scam me and not someone more “scamworthy.”

But, sadly, it makes sense that scammers would go after solo practitioners, especially in service-oriented fields. We do this work because we want to help animals and the people who love them, and we’re on our own. My administrative staff, accountant and IT department? They’re all me.

You may want to give someone the benefit of the doubt, but your doubt is a valuable tool. Use it.

At the very least, see it as a sign to pause and ask more questions.