I did not think I would be writing those words. And yet here we are. He climbs the pole, traverses the wrench arm like a tiny, infuriating tightrope walker, and helps himself to the feeder while making eye contact with me through the window. I have adapted the spinner (originally deployed on the dog run) into a "hat" over the feeder. This slowed him down approximately long enough for me to feel optimistic, which in hindsight I should have known better than to do.
I am not defeated. I have plans. Some involve physics. One involves a string tied to my window. I have also identified a commercial solution at Walmart which I intend to evaluate with the same confidence I had about the flagpole.
No battle plan survives first contact. Chapter Two is being written in real time, and Rockey is holding the pen.