Edmonton — As they teed off on the 10th hole, Ron Nimchuk and Fred Paranchych could only shake their heads at the menace lurking in the shadows of the evergreens lining the picturesque fairway.
A band of quick and determined thieves has taken residence at the Riverside Golf Course in Edmonton's lush River Valley.
Squirrels. Yes, squirrels.
A couple of weeks ago, one of the furtive critters stole a ball from one of the two golfers' friends as they were practising before tee time.
A squirrel runs across the 10th hole at Edmonton's Riverside Golf Course with a golfer's ball. (Brian Gavriloff/CP)
“We were so shocked,” Mr. Nimchuk, a 61-year-old retiree, said yesterday. “We couldn't believe how brazen he was.”
The enterprising squirrels that have made a career out of filching balls have the course virtually under siege. The pests have long squatted at the public course, but this year is the worst in recent memory.
“The Sunday hackers, they don't mind it. But the individuals that spend $6 or $7 on a golf ball, they get upset from time to time,” said assistant pro Chris Toth.
The squirrels, which focus on the 10th and 18th holes, which are side by side, usually snatch balls as they roll to a stop. Some players have lost more than one on the same hole.
In a split second, often without the golfer's knowledge, the sharp-toothed rodents make their move and spirit the orbs up trees where they deposit them in magpies' nests. Some balls also end up in the squirrels' caches.
So many balls are hidden on the course that dozens have fallen to the ground when workers shake trees.
Speculation about the rodents' motive rages among Riverside regulars. Some think they mistake golf balls for mushrooms, eggs or a new kind of nut. Others think they're just pesky.
James Hare, a University of Manitoba zoologist who recently did a study on squirrel communication, said the animals' behaviour is “totally bizarre” and “really mind-boggling.”
Prof. Hare said the squirrels might be trying to foil magpies, which sometimes prey on their young, or possibly are just overzealous hoarders. He also said their behaviour could be an example of “cultural transmission” — where one started to steal golf balls, causing a copycat reaction.
Jenny Smits, a 58-year-old self-employed businesswoman, joked that the animals are the administration's way of increasing sales.
“I think they put them there so we buy more balls in the pro shop,” she said with a laugh.
Indeed, the balls are useless once the squirrels are done with them. As regulars know, they chew them up.
The infestation has resulted in a special Riverside rule. Golfers whose balls are taken can replace them if their partners can agree where they came to a stop. If no one sees the robbery, the player must tee off again and take a one-stroke penalty.
“That's not fair is it?” Letta MacDonald, who played in the senior ladies club championship yesterday, said as she finished lunch with her friends.
But Mr. Nimchuk figures the squirrels are collecting a ball tax on bad shots.
“It's usually because you hit a bad shot and you're lying in the trees anyway,” he said.
Despite the annoyance, the course will not call in an exterminator, saying squirrels moved into the river valley before golfers.
“This is their home, so we can't do anything about it,” said Mr. Toth, who has been on the receiving end of unusual suggestions — including smearing balls with everything from Tabasco sauce to oil — to combat the pests.
Regular golfers have got savvy to the squirrels' ways. Most carry two sets of balls: old ones for holes 10 and 18 and expensive ones for the rest of the course.
But the critters do not merely target golf balls. They also steal players' lunches.
“They're very cheeky,” said Eva Vriens, 65, who once watched a squirrel cart a chocolate bar up a tree, dropping the wrapper along the way.
Another chewed through two zippers in her friend's golf bag looking for something to eat.
