Earlier this year I wrote about how what you think about grows and how thoughts attract things. In that case it was how Murph must think about nice people and pets because he always seems to attract them.
But it’s happened to me before too. In honor of Squirrel Appreciation Week, I thought I’d share the tale of Rudy First.
The Fall
Shortly before the bands of Hurricane Frances wreaked havoc on the neighborhood where we lived in Jacksonville, a funny thing happened. I kept hearing people tell stories about seeing baby squirrels or coming across them somehow. I lamented that I’d never seen a baby squirrel, but I’d like to because I bet they’d be cute.
Well, one afternoon while Murph and I were out walking with our across the street neighbor, I noticed something up the way fall from one of the large branches that canopied the street. It wasn’t uncommon for things to fall from the trees: nuts, clumps of Spanish moss, even parts of the trees. But something was different about this thing.
We were too far away to see what it was, but I sensed it was an animal of some sort. I kept seeing whatever it was move from time to time, and when we finally got close enough I saw it was none other than a baby squirrel.
Taking in Rudy
The poor little thing was pretty battered, with a bloody nose, but no limbs appeared broken. I couldn’t in good conscience just walk away. He was in no shape to move himself off the road, and if he didn’t it would only be a matter of time before he got smooshed.
Roxanne had a little aquarium she said I could use to take him home and nurse him. I stood guard over him to divert any traffic while she ran to get it. Then we gently lifted him off the pavement and marveled that he hadn’t been killed instantly. We guesstimated the branch he’d most likely fallen from was a good 20 feet above the ground.
I put him up in the spare bedroom, so Mr. Meow couldn’t get him. I set his cage on the bureau and went to get him something soft to lie on and a bowl of water. After I prepared his cage I cleaned off his bloody nose. He broke my heart because he clung to me desperately. I felt it in his tiny grasp. I decided to name him Rudy for his red nose and First because he was my first baby squirrel.
How Do You Nurse a Squirrel?
I left to go see if there was anything I could get for him from the vet. On the way, Roxanne’s daughter called. She was a major animal lover and took in all kinds of animals, from stray cats to injured raccoons. She’d seen her fair share of baby squirrels.
“He’s probably a male. The other males push them out of the nests on purpose. He might not make it and could be suffering internal injuries from such a long fall. Don’t worry about taking him to the vet and spending money on him. You’ll know come morning if he’s going to make it or not. But if he does, you’ll want to have kitten formula and a little syringe to feed him with.”
I was confident Rudy would make it, so I bought the kitten formula. I went home and saw he had moved since I’d last saw him. He stirred as I stood there watching him, then he went back to sleep.
Parting is Such Heartbreaking Sorrow
But when I went to check on him a couple hours later, he looked different. It didn’t appear he was breathing, and even though I didn’t want to wake him, I had to try. He didn’t rouse.
I refused to admit he’d died. When Wayne came home from work I took him to see Rudy. He confirmed what I’d been denying. Rudy had gone to the Rainbow Bridge.
I wish he would have pulled through or that I would have known how to help him better. But I hope his last stretch on earth was comfortable and that he knew how much awe and wonder he’d brought into my life. After all the time I’d been wishing I could see a baby squirrel and then to have him fall (literally) into my life…incredible.
This was the only picture I took of him. I forgot I’d also bought the tiniest plush toy I could find when I bought the kitten formula and he snuggled right up to it.
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