WEIRD CREATURE FALLS FROM TREE

It was Monday evening, August 6th. Friends invited me to a barbeque / pool party. After nightfall, we were sitting around the patio talking when our host noticed the rustling and plopping noise of something falling out of a nearby tree.

"What just fell out of that tree?" she asked.

We were content to ignore it until whatever-it-was started chirping and squawking in distress. It sounded like a frantic bird for several seconds, then it went quiet. One lady ventured over. She held up her cell phone for a source of light. It was still too dark.

"We need more cell phones," she said.

Two more joined her with their cell phones. The rest of us were amused by this sight until one of the ladies shrieked, "It has a hand! That's not a bird! It has a hand!" Of course, the rest of us got up to take a look. (Silly humans! This is how people get eaten in scary movies.)

A brief argument followed about birds having "hands." We insisted that birds did indeed have hands after a fashion, while the hysterical lady insisted they didn't. Our host dashed in the house to get a flashlight. We got our first good look at whatever-it-was. Below the tree, a tiny, naked creature dangled in the branches of a plant. No, it wasn't a bird. It was a baby something, looking like a strange cross between a mouse and a weasel. The mouth looked dog-like, kind of like a terrier. It was so young it's eyes were still closed. The poor thing had been scraped, slashed, and stabbed by the plants large thorns.

"It looks like a gofer!" the hysterical lady exclaimed.

"Gofers live UNDERGROUND," someone said, "how on earth did it get in the TREE!"

Several friends tried to pull the stiff, thorny branches out of the way so I could reach in. (Apparently it's an unspoken rule that whoever is single and has no family to care for goes first, poking his hands into these types of situations. Silly human!) The moment I touched the baby whatever-it-was it let out distressed chirps. It took a while to get a good grip and safely remove it. The baby let go of the plant and grabbed my thumb with both front paws. Finally we were able to pull him out.

"It's a bat!" the hysterical lady exclaimed.

"No, bats have WINGS," I said.

"Not when they're babies!" she insisted.

I recognized the shape of the creature's ears. "It's a squirrel."

We all looked up. He had fallen 30 to 40 feet into a plant with huge thorns. It was amazing he wasn't killed. Our first plan was to get a ladder and put the squirrel back in the tree. If that didn't work, someone could take him home.

A lady called her husband to bring a tall ladder. She closed her cell phone after a short and heated conversation saying, "The ladder is somewhere in storage and he says I can't bring the squirrel home."

Oh well. It's been years since I had a dog. I decided to take it home until we could figure something out. Our host gave me a shoe box and I wrapped the baby squirrel in one of my swimming towels. He snuggled up and went right to sleep.

The internet had lots of information on raising baby squirrels. Then it hit me. NURSING a baby squirrel would be nothing like potty training a dog. So, at 11:00 p.m. I was off in search of Pedialyte (a formula you give human babies when they are sick and dehydrated) and eyedroppers. By midnight, I had everything set. The baby squirrel was snuggled in a towel in the shoe box which was under a reading lamp for warmth. Tried as I might, he would not drink the Pedialyte. He was supposed to be fed every two hours for 15 minutes ... or was it every 15 minutes for two hours? I woke up at two, three, four thirty, and five in the morning, but he wouldn't eat anything. The instant I touched his lips with the eyedropper he would chirp, crawl around, flip head over heels, flop this way and that, then curl up and go to sleep. Okay, fine. Starve. See if I care. Okay, I care. Please eat something!

After a really weird dream, and I mean REALLY WEIRD dream about the baby squirrel and his mother who could disguise herself as a human, I woke up before the alarm clock went off (I wasn't bright-eyed but I was definitely bushy-tailed ... all day long). I got ready for work and called the host of the party, praying that I didn't wake her up. We made arrangements to bring the squirrel back to the tree and leave it there to see if the mother squirrel would come back and get him. I prayed all the way home that momma squirrel would come and get her baby. I went home to wait for a plumber to install a new toilet. After that, I would be back to check on him. At 11:00 a.m.

When I came back in the heat of the day, baby squirrel was still there. Okay, a no go on plan C. I took him and the Pedialyte to work. After 13 hours, he still wouldn't eat! And he was definitely showing signs of dehydration. Now I was beginning to worry. There were a few strange looks when people would come into my office and see the shoe box with a cup containing an eyedropper nearby. Our music minister, Tom, actually caught me poking the eyedropper under the towel. With a big grin, he asked what I was doing. l pulled back the towel revealing my sleeping guest. Shocked at the sight of a naked baby squirrel, he listened as I told my tail ... er, I mean TALE ... yada yada yada.

The baby squirrel's mother wasn't available, but MY mother was able to help. After taking my sister-in-law to the airport, she came to the office. We went out to lunch, then I gave her the baby squirrel. She reported later that she was able to feed him quite a bit of Pedialyte. Apparently all the flipping and flopping and squawking was his way of saying "just shove it in my mouth and let me have it!" He even held the eyedropper with his tiny paws. I was relieved to hear that. Then I was jealous. Must be a mom thing. Mom took him to a clinic across town. At four o'clock, representatives from a wild life sanctuary came and picked him up. I was glad it was over, but my mother and I had grown attached to the tiny, hairless bundle of joy.

I didn't even get the chance to name him. What do you think, Floppy? Cannonball? Rocky? I pray that baby will grow up and become the nut-planting-tree-sprouting squirrel he was meant to be. I just don't want him doing it in MY yard.

Mr. David

[menu]