The Spitfires’ Baby Squirrel
The firing-up of a nearby chainsaw woke momma squirrel with a jolt from where she snuggled with her babies. She cautiously peeked through the leaves of her nest at the commotion that had jump-started her adrenaline. A man was in the top of a close by tree using the chainsaw. Ropes, attached to the limb that he was cutting, were held taut at the other end by men on the ground. As the limb began to yield under the assault of the blade, the men tugged hard on the ropes, causing it to resound with a booming crack as they controlled its rapid crash to the ground. Too close, way too close! Momma’s survival instincts kicked in; she snatched one of her ...view middle of the document...
Mom would always come to a scream, but this time she didn’t. Another scream - nothing! He was starving! He cautiously looked out of the nest and crawled onto the limb supporting it. A strong breeze had picked up and the ground was a long way down…. He continued unsteadily to the trunk of the tree. Weakness and inexperience overcame him, causing him to tumble head over tail into a shrub that broke his fall. Unconscious, he lay safely hidden from predators, but not from the warm summer sun that slowly robbed his body of fluid. Hunger pangs and a strong urgency to reunite with mom woke him at twilight. Determined, he dragged himself into the street, only to collapse on cooled pavement. A car drove slowly by and stopped, followed by agitated voices. He was too weak and cold to scratch and bite the hands that picked him up and gently placed him in a box. After a few minutes of gentle movement, the box was opened and something wonderfully warm and soft was placed by him. He snuggled next to it, soaked up its warmth, and fell into a blissful asleep. It made him feel like he was back with his family. As he slept, young Molly and Sophie, who had rescued him, told their dad to hurry up as they drove to someone who could care for him.
Molly and Sophie were frantically knocking on my front door as I opened it. They were cradling a small box and chattering at their dad, who towered behind them. As soon as I let them in, they began tattling on him.
“He didn’t want to stop --”
“But we made him go back!”