They are so agile they can hang from a branch by their toenails to get at the corn I've hung out for them. But it's never enough. I supply corn, peanuts, and bread and as soon as they've gone through that they head straight for the bird feeders.
I stand at my kitchen window and lecture them on the consequences of greed and their noticeably expanding waistlines. I tell them that one of these days I'm going to cut back on the food I supply and then where will they be? They look at each other, giggle and roll their eyes. Then they stare me down as they continue to eat.
Why do I keep feeding them? Because it's like having a yard full of furry circus performers, and I kind of like that.