My garden is overrun with grey squirrels, I get angry when I see them because they sneak into my roof space, eat the insulation and chew the cables. I recently put up a large sign “NO SQUIRRELS ALLOWED” but they constantly ignore it. One sits outside my window when I am working, chewing on a tasty piece of cable and – so it seems – smiling at me, a big “F-YOU” on his face.
Helpless, I live with my fantasies of squirrel murder which I am too ashamed to reveal publicly! However, comparing “angry” behaviour in squirrels and humans is interesting because, while both show visible signs of agitation, the underlying biology and expression are quite different…or so I thought!
Squirrels don’t experience anger in the same complex, reflective way I do. Their behaviour is driven by instinct and survival. They use rapid tail flicking, loud chattering or barking sounds, stomping or sudden movements and chasing intruders to defend territory and protect their offspring, an automatic response closer to a fight-or-flight reaction than a “feeling” with meaning attached.
Anger can be in relation to a “perceived” threat. That squirrel though, is a real threat to my self-esteem. My anger is also typified by barking sounds, stomping or sudden movements and chasing intruders to defend my house and protect my offspring.
I have checked:
- No Release Law: Under the Invasive Alien Species Order 2019, you cannot release a grey squirrel once caught.
- Humane Killing: The Wild Mammals (Protection) Act 1996 makes it illegal to cause unnecessary suffering. Drowning is illegal
- Traps: must be approved. It is legal to shoot them with appropriate firearms
- You cannot use poison for grey squirrels
The squirrel is lucky, he lives entirely in the present and reacts to “what is” without attributing meaning or future purpose. Martin Heidegger describes animals as “poor in the world”. I envy his poverty, the squirrel who lives without the death awareness and questions of meaning that plague me! He survives without asking why and seeks no meaning so never encounters the absurd. He does not resist reality or complain, he follows instinct and does not fall into the trap of psychological attachment.
I can only free myself from suffering through awareness – Buddhists would say. Oh to be a squirrel when I am experiencing real injustice and frustration, stress and a deep dense of unfairness. My prefrontal cortex is paralysed, I do not wish to reflect or to inhibit my impulses. The Amygdala is in charge, my humanity is in lockdown, my childhood trauma is aroused, I am drowning in an old narrative.
Letting go of attachment brings me closer to simple animal existence. Here’s the irony – I can never be like the squirrel because the attempt requires thought and awareness. Who is really free – me or the squirrel?