In the corner of Room 426 in Allwine Hall, three taxidermied penguins stand sentinel atop metal cabinets, fixed in a gaze with a stuffed hornbill that stretches its neck out from a bookshelf filled with primate skulls. For students attending Professor James Wilson’s mammalogy class at the University of Nebraska at Omaha, these unusual sights have become a normal part of their academic environment.

However, on this particular Monday afternoon, their attention is diverted to short stacks of paper placed neatly on black lab tables. They are about to embark on a unique homework assignment: to roam the Omaha area counting the squirrels they encounter. This annual squirrel census led by Wilson’s students has been a cherished fall ritual for the past 15 years.

The students will traverse their assigned routes, either walking or driving slowly, tallying all the squirrels they observe—regardless of whether they are black, red, or deceased. These surveys contribute valuable data that bolster Wilson’s research and help solidify UNO’s status as a center for studying black squirrels. Predominantly, the squirrels in Omaha are fox squirrels; however, a genetic mutation causes some to have black fur, a result of increased melanin in their coats.

Black squirrels can be found in specific urban areas across North America but are particularly prevalent in Council Bluffs, Iowa, where they constitute about half the local squirrel population. In fact, a black squirrel called Chipper has been adopted as the city’s mascot, and there is a long-standing ordinance that prohibits harming these rodents.

Historically, black squirrels were not commonplace in Omaha, but recent analyses by Wilson have indicated a surge in their numbers and an expansion of their range westward. This trend, he speculates, is linked to human development and infrastructure such as bridges that make it easier for them to migrate.

The ongoing study not only aids local scientists in gaining insights into the region’s rich diversity of squirrels but also provides students with essential fieldwork experience close to campus. Brett Andersen, who took the course in 2013, recalls the assignment as an introduction to hands-on research, which ultimately set him on a path to his current dream job focusing on at-risk species at the Nebraska Game and Parks Commission.

Andersen emphasized that while counting squirrels might come off as trivial, having baseline population data is invaluable. He draws a parallel to the monarch butterfly population, once abundant but now endangered, highlighting the significance of tracking even common species.

As the assignment unfolds, Bella Madsen, a senior biology major, peers out of a moving sedan, keeping an eye out for squirrels. “There’s one!” she shouts with excitement as she spots a red squirrel scampering across a lawn in Omaha. Over her survey, Madsen counts 24 squirrels, only one of which is black.

Historically, the observation of squirrels in Omaha would have been quite different. In 1843, the renowned naturalist John James Audubon documented seeing black squirrels between St. Joseph, Missouri, and Council Bluffs, but he noted none on the Nebraska side of the river, mistakenly categorizing the black-colored animals as a separate species.

Ed Lueninghoener’s focused study, conducted when he was a UNO graduate student, unveiled a nearly equal distribution of black and red squirrels in Council Bluffs. His findings indicated that black squirrels were only present in small quantities on the Nebraska side of the river.

Inspired by this previous research, Wilson has since dedicated his efforts to unraveling the mystery surrounding the black squirrels of Omaha. His initial research revealed that approximately 7.5% of squirrels in northern Omaha were black, with the number dropping slightly in the south. The exact origins of the black squirrel population in Nebraska remain elusive, but Wilson believes that human intervention was likely a contributing factor.

Over time, Wilson has observed black squirrels traveling as far as Lincoln and has received anecdotal reports of their presence in other eastern Nebraska locations. His initial findings led him to ponder whether these black squirrels might possess a biological edge over their red counterparts.

Further inquiries by graduate student Amanda Ciurej indicated that black squirrels might have a slight thermal advantage during colder weather due to the heat-absorbing properties of their dark fur, allowing them more foraging time in winter. Wilson is hopeful that the student-conducted data from the past decade can culminate in a follow-up study highlighting the continued rise of black squirrels in the area.

Wilson is eager to delve into how people perceive and interact with these animals. His curiosity extends to whether humans exhibit favoritism toward black squirrels, perhaps viewing them as special or aesthetically pleasing. A few years ago, he instructed students to note the colors of any deceased squirrels they encountered during their surveys to examine if drivers were prone to avoiding these darker creatures.

Andrew Hubbard, a Millard resident, takes a liking to the black squirrels frequenting his backyard, feeding them peanuts and trail mix, which he discovered was more suitable than just peanuts due to their increasing numbers. Following the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic, he ramped up his feeding habits, now regularly attracting five to ten squirrels to his patio each morning.

Despite his indiscriminate feeding practices, he acknowledges the potential ecological impact of such actions. He believes the question around human preference for black squirrels is valid, drawing a comparison to how some hunters might refrain from hunting a rare albino deer.

Among the many squirrels visiting Hubbard, one stands out—”KickAss,” a diminutive black squirrel he befriended in 2021, known for his extraordinary resilience despite a missing foot and occasional health issues. While KickAss has not been seen in recent months, Hubbard reminisces about his tenacious spirit and remains hopeful for his return.

“He’s just so resilient. It sounds so stupid to say this, but for a squirrel, he’s like so inspiring,” Hubbard reflects, missing his furry companion dearly and wishing for his comeback.