Everyday, squirrels jump onto my porch from a nearby tree. They come for peanuts and walnuts, and whole wheat bread. It's an amazing jump, and my porch railing isn't wood, but metal. I don't know how they manage to hang on.
There are two, in particular, I look forward to seeing. Both come to the door and scratch on it to let me know they're there, and ready to eat. The one little guy apparently escaped the clutches of a predator, just barely (it must've been last spring). For months he had to drag his right arm, and even now his right paw is almost a stump. His fingers healed into a clump.
The other fellow has a tooth that juts out from his mouth from the bottom up. It makes it difficult for him to eat some things. I'll probably be making a lot of little peanutbutter sandwiches this winter.