Honestly, I didn’t know this could happen but obviously it must – we just don’t see it happen. The other day I was headed towards one of the benches along a shaded path when all of a sudden … >PLOP< I heard this very loud smack on the pavement. I looked and there was a very dazed squirrel… it staggered to its feet and then capered off into the woods, but I was left gaping thinking that it had to have broken every bone in its tiny body to have fallen from such a height (hard to judge, but at least 12-15 feet). I figured the squirrel must have either missed the branch it was jumping to or stepped onto a dead branch. I don’t know what ultimately came of it; the last i saw was it’s tail twitching as it scampered off!
Rabies is rarely found in squirrels, but still…
I’ve seen this sort of thing a few times. I’ve seen a squirrel fall off a power line when he was running over the street. My FIL used to tell a story about watching a wild raccoon reach under a streambank, pull out a snake, look at it and stuff it back where it came from. Too funny, I only wish we had it on videotape.
I’m not seeing the connection, Bosda. You wanna spell it out a little more?
That’s funny - I saw this happen just the other day too. I was working outside with my son when a neighbor happened by. He’s retired, is something of a well-meaning neighborhood busybody, and tends to pontificate.
As he was droning on, a squirrel fell from a tree across the street, landed on the sidewalk with an audible PLOP, and immediately dashed right back up the same tree, apparently none the worse for wear. The fall looked to be at least 15 feet, maybe more.
Neighbor guy’s back was to the tree, and he kept on talking, but my son and I both saw it. We didn’t react to the squirrel out of politeness, but once the fellow had moved on we turned to each other with dual "did-you-see-that?"s.
Until then, I never thought squirrels could slip.
I saw a squirrel do the same a couple of months ago. I was out on my balcony, heard “scratch, scratch, scramble” noises from the tree directly in front of me, and looked just in time to watch it fall a good 20 feet. It hopped up, shook its head, and ran back up the tree.
Little animals can fall a long way without damage because their low weight/drag ratio gives them a low terminal velocity. I’ve heard it said that when dropped from an appropriate height, a mouse will walk away, a man will break every bone in his body, and a horse will splatter. Squirrels are close to the healthy end of that list.
A few years ago I was driving through the city and a squirrel was crossing the power line. It was a windy day, the squirrel lost its footing and fell right on the hood of my car. I damn-near hit the car beside me, I was so startled.
Squirrel falls out of tree, hits ground, walks away dazed.
Rabies causes staggering, loss of co-ordination, confusion.
Light weight/wind resistance of squirrel should protect it from impact injury.
Therefore, squirrel is (possibly) rabid.
After all, the are just rats, rendered by Disney.
When I was a kid I saw a squirrel get spooked by my friends and I running up the back stairs to one our apartments. He leapt off the railing of a thrid floor building and fell all the way to the alley where we watched him zip off down the alley and up a power pole.
We were utterly gobsmacked. Still up there on improbable things I’ve seen list. This was a garden variety grey squirrel, not some flying type either.
So does getting the wind knocked out of you from a 15-foot fall. Squirrels are obviously better equipped to handle it, but that doesn’t mean they’re immune to the effects of suddenly colliding with the ground. I’m not saying the squirrel wasn’t rabid, but I don’t think there’s enough evidence to even support a conjecture.
Warning: possibly TMI. (And somewhat of a hijack too.)
I used to feed a squirrel who had a nest in the top of a tree near my morning busstop. She was shy at first but eventually we became pretty good friends. After several months she stopped coming around. I wasn’t worried; I just figured she’d found somewhere warmer than an open treetop for the winter.
The following spring a crew came around to trim and top the trees along that part of the block. When they got to the squirrel’s tree, they apparently found the dessicated, mummified body of the squirrel in her nest. The crew must have been younger guys, having a younger guy’s mindset. I.e. it would be fun to leave the long-dead squirrel laying on the sidewalk where it can freak out people who chanced by. I wasn’t freaked out; I wouldn’t give the tree guys the satisfaction, even though they weren’t around by then to see me. But I did feel sorry for her. She was so dried out by being in the constant cold wind that she was very nearly flat and she looked like she had been tanned. Apperently stray dogs and raccoons weren’t even intrested in her and she lay there for a couple of weeks before she disappeared.
I do miss her. The squirrels in my neighborhood aren’t used to being fed by humans, so tend to give us a wide berth. I’d love to have another squirrel friend.
I’ve only known a squirrel to fall once. It was while I was walking to class one fine Autumn day. Passing under some ancient chestnut trees, I heard a sick plopthump behind me–*right * behind me. Like a foot or maybe two behind me. I turned around and saw what would have been a terrifyingly surreal image of a ninja death squirrel sizing me up for combat had it not been unconscious. Somewhat relieved, I bent down to get a look at the little guy (I was on my way to Biology lab as it happens, and I was forming a thought that directly involved this little rascal). As I was reaching for him he hopped up, shot me a dirty look and scampered away.
“Odd.” I thought. And continued on my way.
I too heard a swish-thunk like a baseball dropping through the leaves to the ground and turned to see a squirrel run like hell into the bushes and up another tree.
I’ve seen it happen at least four times, one even a double-whammy. Seems a pair were duking it out in one of my backyard oak trees and plum forgot to hold on. Down came the two boys… Thunk! Thunk! Just last week while I was sitting on the back porch something boomed on the roof over my head. I ran out just in time to see the little feller sheepishly dusting himself off. Have to say that not one of the critters gave up the ghost.
A friend has a rather dim alsatian (GSD) called Suzie. Sue’s squirrel chasing days came to an abrupt end when a quarrelling pair fell out of an oak tree and landed on her head. She’s evidently convinced they did it on purpose.