Last winter a grey squirrel (or perhaps several grey squirrels) was a regular visitor to the nuts on the bird table. I didn’t mind him having some bird nuts, as long as he didn’t destroy my bird feeder in the process.

Since I put the bird food out this year I’ve been wondering how long it would take him to return.

During the Summer we have had a few squirrel sightings, but only fleetingly and even then only from a distance. On one occasion we even spied a mother with a youngster. We christened him ‘Noisette’!

Anyway, today whilst I was preparing our lunch, I glanced out of the window and there was a grey squirrel helping himself to some peanuts. My joy soom turned to horror, as I realised this little chap only had one arm!

Where his left arm should have been there was just a short, furry stump. Having said that, it was very neat and tidy, in fact I even wondered if he had been born that way.

Having done a little research, the consensus seems to be that a disabled wild animal will either adapt and survive, or fail to adapt and die.

As far as this little chap is concerned his disability didn’t stop him climbing up the smooth metal pole of my bird feeder, so there is hope, though Peter said he didn’t move well once on the ground.

A few years ago we had a one-legged robin and now we have a one-armed squirrel. You couldn’t make it up could you?

I was unable to save the robin, but I shall make it my mission in life to ensure that my furry, little one-armed bandit, makes it to Spring. At least I’ll be able to recognise him in a crowd.

Now I’ll have to think of a name for him.