Requiem for a baby squirrel
John gave me permission, with a little urging, to publish his first effort at a Shallow Thought Wednesday, the one he thought better of. The baby squirrel is, of course, the one in the earlier photo: ...
On Saturday, my least favorite dog killed a baby squirrel.
Its sibling remained treed, crying and growling and carrying on the rest of the day. On Sunday, the poor guy was still out of sorts, at intervals screeching and growling. On Monday, hunger overcoming fear, it crawled out of its perch and began gnawing on pears that annually litter the ground beneath my least favorite fruit tree.
Bon discovered that she could get quite close to the squirrel, called me out, and within a few minutes, I was holding him in my hands. When I set him down and walked away, he followed me. Just my luck: we'd bonded.
I called out daughter Nicole, who named the six-week-old squirrel Jeffery while it frolicked and cavorted on her as she sat on the grass.
We brought Jeffery water and broccoli and another pear. We prepared a safe place with straw and a blanket and water. Bon phoned animal rescue enthusiasts, who either were not taking more animals or did not answer calls. She bought him Pedialyte, an "electrolyte maintenance solution" that pediatricians recommend for babies and rescue enthusiasts recommend for baby squirrels.
And then after all that, and much fretting, godammit, about a half hour ago, Tuesday, 9.2.08, Jeffery died.
We speculate that, since his mother didn't return for him after two days in the tree, she probably preceded him in death. (Perhaps to balance their singular athleticism, squirrels display stunningly bad decision-making skills when it comes to crossing busy streets.)
I wish that this whole episode hadn't happened. I'd gladly give up the opportunity to hold and play with this truly wild animal to allow it a good long squirrelly life. But, like another famous substance, my least favorite dog happens.
As a result, I'm temporarily undone. I can't think of anything else to write about as the hour of my favorite weekly deadline approaches. I'm momentarily out of shallow thoughts. And the only tie-in I can find to a baby squirrel and a dining blog is that thanks to the former, for the first time in a long long while, I'm not hungry.
Its sibling remained treed, crying and growling and carrying on the rest of the day. On Sunday, the poor guy was still out of sorts, at intervals screeching and growling. On Monday, hunger overcoming fear, it crawled out of its perch and began gnawing on pears that annually litter the ground beneath my least favorite fruit tree.
Bon discovered that she could get quite close to the squirrel, called me out, and within a few minutes, I was holding him in my hands. When I set him down and walked away, he followed me. Just my luck: we'd bonded.
I called out daughter Nicole, who named the six-week-old squirrel Jeffery while it frolicked and cavorted on her as she sat on the grass.
We brought Jeffery water and broccoli and another pear. We prepared a safe place with straw and a blanket and water. Bon phoned animal rescue enthusiasts, who either were not taking more animals or did not answer calls. She bought him Pedialyte, an "electrolyte maintenance solution" that pediatricians recommend for babies and rescue enthusiasts recommend for baby squirrels.
And then after all that, and much fretting, godammit, about a half hour ago, Tuesday, 9.2.08, Jeffery died.
We speculate that, since his mother didn't return for him after two days in the tree, she probably preceded him in death. (Perhaps to balance their singular athleticism, squirrels display stunningly bad decision-making skills when it comes to crossing busy streets.)
I wish that this whole episode hadn't happened. I'd gladly give up the opportunity to hold and play with this truly wild animal to allow it a good long squirrelly life. But, like another famous substance, my least favorite dog happens.
As a result, I'm temporarily undone. I can't think of anything else to write about as the hour of my favorite weekly deadline approaches. I'm momentarily out of shallow thoughts. And the only tie-in I can find to a baby squirrel and a dining blog is that thanks to the former, for the first time in a long long while, I'm not hungry.
Comments
Shallow thought: this is why Animal Planet is watched. Baby animals are sooooo cute. But then baby squirrels grow to adulthood and take their place as rats with bushy tails.
Posted by: Robert (the Single One) | September 3, 2008 4:00 PM
So, I come back from Hawai'i a day early because I don't want to miss two Shallow Thought Wednesdays in a row and I find "Requiem For A Baby Squirrel"?
Puh-leeze.
What is this? "Bambi" for tree-rats?
And, jl, you eat sausage...worse yet, you promote the wide-spread eating of sausage...made from the shot, gutted and skinned-out carcass of a cute little Teddy bear, but get all misty-eyed over a rodent that, for all you know, may have died of the plague? (Have you been tested? You should be. And soon.)
I'm exceedingly bewildered...
And I don't think I promised you duck fries, but I am working on an extra special present for you. It just needs to put on a couple hundred more punds before I haul it down to...the...uh...place cows go to "have aortic surgery" converting it from livestock to deadstock.
By Christmas, maybe. Until then, gut it up, would you?
Posted by: Bucky | September 3, 2008 4:07 PM
Wow, this is a tough crowd!
Posted by: Hal Laurent, VoR | September 3, 2008 4:14 PM
Wow, to quote Rosebud or Dahlink: Roberts, DUCK AND RUN.
Posted by: Anonymous | September 3, 2008 4:18 PM
We can always count on Bucky.
Posted by: Dahlink | September 3, 2008 4:28 PM
Ah, the Internet. Where people feel somehow justified in saying things they'd never say in person. Bucky, have YOU been tested?
Posted by: Mary | September 3, 2008 4:37 PM
Mary asked, Bucky, have YOU been tested?
Yep.
The doctor held up an inkblot. I said, "Cheeseburger."
The doctor held up another inblot. I said, "Cheeseburger."
The doctor held up another inkblot. I said, "Bacon Cheeseburger."
The doctor said, "I think we're done."
I said, "Good, I'm getting full."
Posted by: Bucky | September 3, 2008 5:44 PM
Mary, the Sandbox is a relatively genteel part of the Internet, where we, mostly, try to get along. There are other forums (fora?) that are much nastier, with name calling that even those with a low opinion of Internet correspondence would not believe.
For me squirrels are cute creatures who come and knock on my patio door every morning to remind my DW that it is time for their ration of peanuts. Of course the bluejays, not to be outdone, squawk for their share and the smaller birds, including some mourning doves (which are really PIGEONS), are content with the birdseed. To other folk these are all nasty critters, to be exterminated or driven away.
Posted by: Retired in Elkridge | September 3, 2008 6:13 PM
Mary - one of the other Colorado readers of D@L emailed me and said my response to you was unnecessarily flippant.
Let me be clear: Shallow Thought Wednesday is often the highlight of my blogging week.
(OK...I lied before, I didn't come home a day early just because it was Wednesday. But when I got home, Shallow Thought Wednesday was the first thing I checked on the intranet, even before I checked how the Red Sox...oooops...never mind...let's just say STW was the first thing I checked on the intranet upon my return.)
And while I'm likely not jl's biggest fan, I bet I'm in the top decile of his fan base.
No disrespect intended to Mr. Lindner (I assume he knows that) and none to you, either.
Posted by: Bucky | September 3, 2008 7:50 PM
Whoa. I took Mr. Bucky's comments with no hint of malice, much less disrespect. Quite the opposite. I depend on him to whack me if I step to close to the edge of maudlin sensitivity. It's what friends do.
Bucky, btw you and me, I hear you. Terrible thing eulogizing a squirrel without at least a month's notice. But while I have no qualms about gnoshing a properly prepared squirrel, Jeffery and I became buds. Probably a failing on my part. Not like I didn't see tragedy in the offing. Mea culpa. We're good, though, right? Right.
Oh, by the way, I have been tested. And the basturds made me show my work, too.
Posted by: jl | September 3, 2008 10:12 PM
TOUGH room! Yes, squirrels may be "tree rats," but that's not the point. John's family nurtured this little critter, which then just upped and died. That's just sad, I don't care WHAT the critter is.
Posted by: Dottie | September 3, 2008 11:12 PM
I love baby squirrels!
Posted by: Owl Meat Gravy | September 4, 2008 1:28 AM
OMG, would you like to expand on how you like baby squirrels?
Posted by: Anonymous | September 4, 2008 5:41 AM
RiE, you'll like this.
Posted by: Rosebud | September 4, 2008 7:49 AM
I love baby squirrels!
I bet you do, OMG!
Posted by: Rosebud | September 4, 2008 7:52 AM
I love them in the afternoon especially.
Posted by: Owl Meat Gourmand | September 4, 2008 7:57 AM
I think chipmunks are vastly superior to baby squirrels in all ways.
Posted by: Owl Meat & Greet | September 4, 2008 9:41 AM
RIP - Jeffrey
Posted by: Piano Rob | September 4, 2008 1:00 PM
My condolences. It is always rough loosing an animal.
Posted by: Lissa | September 4, 2008 1:34 PM
Blog-missa defunctorum ... Requiem
Posted by: Rock Chicklet | September 4, 2008 4:31 PM