Little visitors Archived article from Feb 2, 2001 By Douglas Frank   On Nov. 19, 1970, a squirrel ventured from the fire escape through an open window and climbed down a large rubber plant into the Greenwich Village apartment of Grace and Larry Spruch. Grace gave it a walnut, and thus began a warm and fascinating relationship with scores of squirrels over 30 years. Grace Marmor Spruch, professor of physics on the Newark campus, has documented more than a dozen years of that relationship (1970-83) in a charming paperback titled "Squirrels at My Window: Life with a Remarkable Gang of Urban Squirrels" (Johnson Books, 2000). A hardbound edition was originally published as "Such Agreeable Friends: Life with a Remarkable Group of Urban Squirrels" (William Morrow, 1983). For many generations of squirrels and their friends, the word got out that "if you behaved, there was as much as you could eat at the Spruchs," the author writes. And they came -- in batches of about a half dozen a day, bringing their appetites with them. At first she began reading up on squirrels and making inquiries, but she found so little written on their day-to-day behavior that she took her own notes, which eventually led to the book. "Our squirrels were in a category not considered in books -- not pets and not completely wild. They were city squirrels, living in many respects as squirrels do in the wild but depending upon humans for handouts," Spruch writes. Many became like members of the family and were given names: Chazzer (Yiddish for "pig," because he ate so much); Runty, who came at odd hours to assure himself of a meal; Notchko, a "nice guy" who never kept the females and inferior males from getting to the cup of nuts; and Sweetie Longtail, who was taken on two trips to a dentist to have his abnormally large lower teeth filed down so he could shell nuts. Among squirrel behaviors observed by the Spruchs: Squirrels buried nuts inside the house -- in the rubber plant, under decorative pillows on the bed, in a Navajo rug and between Larry's crossed knees as he sat reading the paper. Squirrels bark, a sound something like a duck quacking. "Other sounds would soon impinge upon my consciousness: gurgling, gibbering, carping, a bok bok bok and a growl." Relationships between males and females were pretty fluid. "A twosome one day would be a menage a trois the next. Harem today, gone tomorrow." Except for a few rare instances, the animals took care of their bodily functions outside and did very little damage to the apartment. The experience, which continues to this day, made an indelible impression on the author, who concludes: "Some of the best things in life are indeed free. The pleasure to be derived from a gust of wind on a sunny spring day, the sight of a golden retriever looking back to see if you are following on the trail, the sight of the muscles on the shoulders of a sturdy little rodent, all are God's gifts -- joy to mankind. And the people who can experience these joys are blessed."

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