I have always wanted to to hold a squirrel. I don’t think it is too weird, since my kids all seem to feel the same way. When Abigail was a toddler we had a big fat squirrel who would always visit our back door. She named him “Dig”, because, as she said, “he digs for nuts!” Similarly, when Katie was about the same age, she had her “own” squirrel which she named “Pig.” She reasoned that it rhymed with Dig (who still visited frequently) and because he was even fatter. I can still hear her little voice telling me that he ate like a pig! We would always leave nuts and corn outside for them. The novelty of their “pet squirrels” wore off once the wonderment of preschool subsided, but we still have a soft spot for squirrels.
This weekend, our neighbor called us over to see the baby squirrel on their property. The little thing was shaking and there was not a mom or a nest in sight. I picked the sweet little guy up while someone ran for a box. The kids named him (and yes it is a he) “Sylvester.” We were on the lookout for more babies, but could not locate another. Wrapping Sylvester in a warm scarf left over from the winter months, we brought him over to an animal rescue where he was treated like a king — heating pad, warm bottles of milk, and other furry friends to play with.
The next day, Sylvester’s brother “Sheldon” ventured from the nest. He was smaller, but a bit more feisty as he tried to escape the cardboard box on the way to the rescue. He kept peeking his little nose out to see me as I held him on my lap.
Last I heard both Sylvester and Sheldon were doing great and they had both gained weight. Once they were a little bigger and stronger they will be brought to a Squirrel Sanctuary where they will be released to the wild.
Today, playtime was being supervised by a friendly Cockatoo!