Was visiting the grandparents the other day: Standing by their car and discussing a small cosmetic repair it required with grandma, I felt a scratching and light pulling on the cuff of my jeans. Looking down, I was somewhat startled to see a very young squirrel pitifully looking up and pawing me. It actually looked sad; lost. It was almost... crying. I was so reminded of the childrens book ARE YOU MY MOTHER by P. D. Eastman I read a gazillion times as a boy. Bending down slowly, I scooped up the shivering mound of fur and cradled it against my chest. He fit easily in my hand. He chirped, squeaked and muttered; his tail flicking a weak attempt at morse code or some other cipher I never studied. After confirmation from grandma I could carry him inside, I showed him to grandpa and my parents who were also visiting. I walked to the backyard and placed him on the ground adjacent to the patio, by the box elder tree many of yall know so well. I watched as if he were gaining his bearings. He didnt flinch so I lightly tapped its tail as encouragement. He immediately turned towards me, tree to his back, and with sad, Looney Tunes eyes, he reared up on his back feet, raised his paws and boxed at me. I swear I heard him say, put dem uup...put dem uup! Showing just how tough he was. I chuckled. I enjoy a good chuckle. He leaped up the tree and scampered into the flora. I then realized I didnt take a picture. Hope he found his mama....
Posted on: Sat, 09 Nov 2013 10:13:54 +0000
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