Squirrels were designed to be outside, climbing trees, living off the land, romping with other squirrels. But sometimes something goes wrong. Kibbles would have had a regular squirrel life if she hadn't got washed out of her nest when she was brand new. So my girl is a hot house squirrel and when she exited the screened porch yesterday through a hole one of the yard squirrels made in the screen, all I could think of was the night to come and of my baby in the cold--shivering and hungry--or worse, as a meal for a neighborhood cat or the hawk that haunts this area.
Kibbles had vanished into the back yard. Gone! Fall leaves and gray tree trunks camouflage a squirrel perfectly. The dappled patterns of sun and shadow play games with eyes on the lookout for any movement that might be a little animal. The day left and evening moved in--still no Kibbles. One last turn around the yard by flashlight and it was time to go to bed--way past time. That night ticked by with visions of scary things dancing in my head. Stupid to be so insane about a critter who would likely not only survive just fine with the yard squirrels but next spring produce pups to expand the population. But she isn't a yard squirrel--doesn't have yard squirrel skills or yard squirrel fear. She's my little buddy--and we're her tribe. Her instincts are all squirrel, but her nurture is all human.
My feet were cold and my eyes were puffy from not enough sleep. My heart was just where it had been since I found the hole Kibbles escaped from--in my throat--when I looked out onto the screened porch early the next morning. I'd left the back door open and the light on all night. The chairs were still covered in towels. There was dirt on the porch from the plant Kibbs had savaged the day before she went AWOL. The chickenwire I'd bought at Home Depot to secure the porch was laying where I'd dropped it. The porch was just as deserted as it had been the night before. Then the towel moved.
Didn't take but a second for the world to be right again. Feet warmed up, heart went back where it belonged, eyes sharpened right up and zeroed in on the little lump burrowing under the favorite towel where Kibbs likes to snooze. She was home-- starving and cold--but home.
Right now she's asleep in the hood of my jacket. I wonder if she's dreaming about climbing the skyscrapers out back again.
I came across your blog spot from The Squirrel Board. You are an incredible writer! Do you write professionally? Have you written any books? If not, you should and I would buy every one of them!
ReplyDeleteAmy