The Struggle For Survival: Britannia Park Edition

Ah, yes, the never-ending struggle between predator and prey goes on all around us the natural world. Who hasn't watched these surreptitiously filmed battles in the wild between majestic beasts: lion vs. gazelle, snake vs. frog, shark vs. dolphin, and the list goes on. It is quite ordinary and unremarkable in most ways, despite the necessary cruelty, pain and death it engenders.

Perhaps less remarkable is when animals -- any animals, not only predators -- compete for the same food. Hyenas do it, as do litters of suckling newborns. It can even be witnessed on the manicured lawns of local parks, it seems.

It was during one of those rare periods this weekend when it wasn't raining that I saw an unusual sight. What looked like a chunk of bread, whether purloined from picnickers or intentionally left for the birds, was being fought over by a small flock of about a dozen gulls. This is a common enough sight if you've ever had occasion to throw food to these flying garburetors. This was not the thing that struck me as unusual. It was what happened next.

Into the mix there appeared a squirrel. It intrepidly jumped in among the squawking quarrelers and grabbed the bread in its mouth. As it was making its getaway, the gulls finally noticed what had happened and the lot of them turned to chase the furry thief. They kept low to the ground, half running and half flying, trying to impede the squirrel's escape.

The squirrel was quickly surrounded and was being flown at from all sides by the enraged flock. The squirrel darted to and fro, avoiding their sharp beaks but not quite able to break from the circle. In the general melee, the squirrel did finally find an opening and darted through it, and broke into a loping run toward a stand of brush a short distance away. The gulls gave chase, dive-bombing the squirrel as it ran.

The bushy-tailed rodent did succeed in making its escape since once among the bushes the gulls were no longer able to fly at it. What was a barrier to the birds was a protective fence for the squirrel. Now free of the pursuit it took its prize up the nearest tree where it presumably ate the bread. Except that we're talking about a squirrel, so it's equally possible that it dropped the bread, stowed it among the branches to be lost forever, or left it to be retrieved and buried a while later by itself or another squirrel.

So ends another majestic episode of struggle among the beasts in the wilds of Ottawa's park system. I have to wonder if it was crows instead of gulls, whether the squirrel would have come out quite so well. A squirrel may be brighter than a gull, but crows should outperform most rodents on an IQ test.