While walking along the worn-brick paths of the Lawn, you may find yourself glancing down at a cute, fuzzy little critter gazing up at you quizzically, or a scruffy, devilish varmint, startling you with its penetrating gaze. Which perspective you take depends upon your sentiment toward one of the most noticeable and polemic creatures on Grounds -- the squirrel. These creatures have existed alongside students of the University for years, inciting enjoyment, apathy and aversion. Differing opinions toward squirrels seem to be a product of each student's squirrelly interactions.
Third-year College student Todd Campbell describes the squirrel-student relationship as unproblematic.
"They don't bother me. You notice them a lot at first, but then you don't pay much attention to them," he said.
However, chances are that if you happen to be paying close attention, you'll spot quite a few. With such a vibrant squirrel population, it's strange that the University isn't listed on the online Campus Squirrel Listings (gottshall.com/squirrels/campsq.htm), a report on the size, health and behavior of the squirrel population on 99 college campuses nationwide. The report rates the "critter quality" of each campus from one squirrel face (worst) to five (best). Schools like UCLA and Daytona Beach Community College rate an abysmal one of five squirrel faces, while U.C. Berkeley and Mary Baldwin College (whose mascot is appropriately a squirrel) boast a most impressive five out of five squirrel rating. One has to wonder how Mr. Jefferson's University would hold up in these national rankings.
One site where Virginia is mentioned, ScarySquirrel.org, has the University listed under "campus alerts" for squirrel aggression. The site reports that "according to reputable sources, the University of Virginia is the latest victim of squirrel aggression. Students and faculty are advised to avoid standing or reclining under trees, sitting on benches adjacent to grassy areas, or walking alone on campus."
Although this bold assertion may seem extreme, third-year Engineering student Andrew Weatherton has experienced squirrel aggression firsthand, in an incident that occurred at his 1900 JPA apartment last December.
Preparing to return home for Winter Break, Weatherton went into his room to check his e-mail. Thinking that he was alone, he wandered upstairs to investigate the strange noises he began to hear. As he walked upstairs, he spotted a squirrel standing in between his bathroom and hall area. Weatherton calmly tried to lead the squirrel downstairs, but it ran into the bathroom. As he followed it in, it ran back through his legs and into his room.
Now, with a squirrel hiding in a corner behind his bed just before Winter Break, Weatherton was faced with a dilemma: how to get it out. When he tried to coax it out with a folder, it started making defensive noises. He then tried to push it out with a tennis racket, without success.
Finally Weatherton resolved himself to attempting to pick up the squirrel in order to forcibly displace it from the room. He put on a thick winter glove and picked it up by the back, from a position that he thought would be safe. Suddenly, the squirrel swung his head around and bit down hard through the glove, sinking his teeth into Weathertons's index finger. When the squirrel finally let go, he examined his bleeding finger and realized that he would need shots, and he still had to get the squirrel, which had gone back behind the bed, out of his room.
After clearing everything from under his bed, Weatherton made an open path that led out his door and down the stairs. He then prodded it with his tennis racket, pushing it in the direction of the door. Upon sprinting out of the room, the squirrel jumped from the top of the stairs and slammed into the wall at the bottom. Dazed, it finally scampered out of the house.
This amazing squirrel was actually one of two that entered Weatherton's house last year. Luckily, Weatherton said, the other one didn't make it into his room.
"The way the squirrel was acting in my room was defensive rather than aggressive," he said. "I still like squirrels, they're cool. They're so squirrely."
Weatherton received a tetanus shot as a result of the encounter. Fortunately, his doctor wasn't worried about rabies, which would have been an expensive shot. Although cases of rabies in squirrels have been confirmed in the U.S., the chances of squirrels on Grounds carrying rabies are slim, Weatherton's doctor said.
Other students around Grounds don't feel as positively about squirrels as Weatherton. Third-year Engineering student Austin Kennedy readily admits to having been startled by the creatures and claims that "some of them have a deranged look in their eyes, especially when you throw mulch chips at them."
Third-year Engineering student Eugene Otto has encountered squirrels outside his Dillard dorm and describes them as "frenzied raptors of the night."
Fourth-year College student Anna Tsuchitani's hatred of squirrels began after an incident one night, when one lunged at her as she was throwing away her trash.
Fourth-year College student Julia Ferguson shares Tsuchitani's aversion to the critters, describing them as "little devils that think they own this place."
"They walk on the sidewalks now and come like an inch away from you," she said.
Third-year College student and anti-squirrelite Chris Burrow said he is "all for squirrel cookouts on the Lawn" and views squirrels as an untapped food resource for University students and the surrounding community. Yet to be seen, however, are the student and community tastes for squirrel meat.
Every member of the University community has probably experienced squirrels around Grounds, in some form or fashion. Love them, hate them or feel somewhere in between, squirrels don't appear to be going anywhere, and student-squirrel coexistence at the University looks to continue well into the future.