Too much fuss
"Just to set the stage; unlike most of your cute docile squirrels, my neighborhood squirrels are EVIL (just kidding, all squirrels are evil—I know that now). Anyway, I now refer to those chilly afternoons planting snow crocus as time I spent meticulously caching squirrel treats. Let's start there actually: I thought these filbert-sized bulbs would be a breeze to plop in finger-width holes, but with a planting depth just beyond finger reach, and the fact that they are forever flipping upside down at the last second no matter how careful one is to insert them right-side up, they actually were quite a bother (granted, it didn't help that they quickly got wedged in my heavy clay soil when trying to spin them right way up). I suppose that could explain the second problem: 80% of them never emerged… I did a trial planting in late October to see how fast the squirrels would snarf them (less than 24 hours for the record). After the trial, I waited until well into December before planting some more. With my heavy clay soil and I'd definitely see if the squirrels had dug and surprisingly, I saw no evidence of squirrels getting the second batch. Unfortunately, there was no evidence of crocus months later either. In an ironic twist, 3 of the original 5 test subjects actually did emerge (I guess the squirrels dug, but didn't discover every last bulb I meticulously deposited by finger). So, it was a delightful albeit short-lived surprise to see three little blooms (sans foliage) poking through the lawn one day in March. Regrettably, the blooms lasted all of two days then disappeared as unceremoniously as they'd appeared. Long story long, these delicious little squirrel nuts are just too much investment for too little reward for me."
