A Little Squirrely

Last week I came home from work and my mom said "Prissy's got something." Not surprised, I asked "pacie or bottle?" My mom gave me her serious look and said "More like squirrel or chipmunk." I went outside to investigate, and the Prissster had a baby teenage squirrel in her mouth. It was still alive. "Prissy, no!" I shouted. She rolled her eyes at me. I told her to go get in her crate, so she picked up the squirrel and headed inside. NOOO! "Drop it!" I yelled. She complied, and went inside to her crate.

I checked on the squirrel, who wasn't moving. My mom and The Boy were safely inside. I'd asked my mom to stay late because we're refinancing our house and an attorney was coming at 6:30 to close. It was 6:15. I went to get a shovel to move the squirrel to a safer location. I tried to scoop him up but he was too alive for that. He slowly scootched away from the shovel. Too dead to run and too alive to die, we had a dilemma. I didn't want him to suffer but I couldn't bring myself to kill him. He was making little squeaking noises. Eeek. Eeek. I left him alone.

When The Husband came home I showed him said squirrel. He said he'd kill it. What a brave man! I watched from inside as he carried the shovel to the back of the yard and gently tossed something furry into the brush. Ding dong. The attorney was here. I let her in and offered her some pizza. She had the efficiency and the personality of an ant farm. She did not even smile at The Boy. I hollered at the Husband that she was here. He came inside.

Husband: There's nothing wrong with that squirrel.
Me: Except for that he was on the edge of death.
Husband: He's fine.
Me: Well Prissy had him folded in half, slinging him around. That can't feel good.
Husband: He's fine. 
Me: What did you do with it?
Husband: I put him in a tree so Prissy couldn't get him.
Mom: Was he making any noise?
Husband: Well he was saying Eeek eeek but he's fine.
Attorney: I'm Somer. Nice to meet you. Should we get started? She did not shake the Husband's hand. 

The closing was anti-climactic. We signed a bunch of papers. The Boy jabbered loudly. Somer did not smile. Somer left and The Husband went to check on the squirrel. He was still in the tree where he'd been placed to rehabilitate.

Three days later I was taking the trash out the front door when I saw the same squirrel in the carport. "You're alive!" I told him. I got closer, but he didn't move. He just clung to the brick, half on and half off. "Go play!" I said. He didn't move. I went about taking the trash out and he never moved. My sister was at our house so she came out to see him.

Me: Come look.
Sister: Aww!
Me: Be careful. Don't get too close. Squirrels have rabies.
Sister: Really? All squirrels have rabies?
Me: Yes.

The Husband stopped cutting grass to see what we were doing.

Me: He must be hurt.
Sister: He's not moving at all.
Husband: He's just afraid because y'all are staring at him.
Me: Prissy had him and now he's hurt.
Husband: He's fine. He made it from the back yard all the way over here to the carport.
Me: But it took him three days!
Sister, to The Husband: Can I see your work gloves?
Husband: No you cannot. Squirrels have rabies.
Me: See? I told you.
Husband: Call one of your hippie friends to see if they want a squirrel.
Me: Who wants a squirrel? I'm calling animal control.

I looked up the number and called animal control. At the same time my sister was calling her friend Charley.

Animal control: Clarke County Animal Control
Me: Hello. I have a baby squirrel that my dog got and I think he's hurt but he's alive. He's not really a baby, more of a teenager. He has fur and everything.
Animal control: Okay. Our regular dispatcher doesn't get wildlife. You'll have to page the weekend dispatcher to come and get it. To do that you have to call 911 and they'll contact her.
Me: 911? This isn't really an emergency.
Sister: I'm talking to Charley. She has a squirrel, she might want it.
Animal control: That's our process.
Me: And will she pick it up or tell me how to take care of it?
Sister: Charley wants it! Her mom said okay.
Animal control: Umm, I'm not sure. Let me get your number and I'll have someone call you back.
Sister: Charley wants it!
Me: No, that's okay. I can call 911.
Husband: What's going on?
Me: Charley's taking it.
Husband: Does Charley's mom know?
Sister: Yes. They have a pet squirrel and she said she can rehab it. She said they like McDonald's french fries.
Me: Honey, get the squirrel trap! We don't have any french fries.
Husband: Here, just use the dog crate. He scooped him up in the dog crate and shut the door.
Me: That'll traumatize him.
Husband: He's fine.
Sister: She also said they like the ends of tomatoes.
Me; Ends of tomatoes?
Sister: Yes, she said to keep them hydrated.

Now all this excitement was about more than The Boy could contain. He bounced and bounced and grinned at the squirrel. I wouldn't let him get too close, you know because they all have rabies, but I'm pretty sure he would have kissed it if he could have. We chopped off the end of a tomato and put it in the dog crate with the teenage squirrel and my sister dropped it off at Charley's. I was proud to have given it a good home, although it promptly died.