FRANKENSQUIRREL

He struck again today, launching himself from the porch railing to the top of the bird feeder pole and chasing the tweety birds away. He plopped himself down into the shelled peanut tray that the blue jays and woodpeckers are so enamored of, and proceeded to stuff himself.
We loosed the hounds—three Maltese dogs, only one of which is bigger than Frankensquirrel. And of course, he ran, And they chased him. Off the porch, down the steps, across the yard, up the wire fence, off the wire fence, back through the yard,---with Tooki, the fiercest of the three Maltese, snapping at his tail--to the tree, where he made his escape..
It’s our own fault. We first saw Frankensquirrel in the winter. He was thin, small, probably the runt of the litter, and he looked miserable. We decided to fill the squirrel feeder on the tree for him. It worked. He became a daily visitor, in a time when there were only one or two birds coming to the bird feeders.
And he fattened up. Now, he seems convinced that we put food out only for him. The birds have come back, Cardinals, Blue Jays, Nuthatches, three different Woodpeckers, and of course, Sparrows and Juncoes..  He chases everyone away. We have created a monster. We’ve tried reasoning with him. Tried confining him to the squirrel feeder. Nothing seems to work.
So we loose the hounds on him. Of course, he’s faster than they are, but Tooki gets pretty close. After a really close call, Frankensquirrel seems to go somewhere else for a few hours. Most of the time, he’s back in less than fifteen minutes.
We’re now concerned that he may not be able to forage for food on his own.
We’ll find out this winter.