Many attempts at thwarting the 4-legged thieves are made. Double-sided tape is wrapped around the pole holding up the feeders. No good.
Grease is smeared on the pole, but the squirrels keep trying until that has worn away and they can still make the climb to the most delicious seed.
Edwin Way Teale professes in his book, A Naturalist Buys an Old Farm, to hanging a feeder to a thin wire from a tree branch. He moves it out further a little at a time to see just how far the squirrels can jump and still get to the feeder. He discovers that when the feeder is finally out of the reach of the squirrels, they still jump wholeheartedly, hitting the feeder, sending the seed flying, where they can then just eat off of the ground. Squirrels surely get an A+ for effort.
You buy feeders that say they are squirrel proof, but somehow the furry beasts eventually find a way.
This morning as I was driving out of my neighborhood to work, I spotted a great sight.
Not the usual pesky squirrels at the feeders, but a big, fat, black cat sitting under my neighbor's feeder, eyes focusing upwards, and tail swishing.
Lesson learned is that nature does what it does.
Put food out, and it is survival of the fittest, or the most acrobatic, as to who gets it.