Trapped in the farthest corner of our basement, away from
the predators and children, is a life transformed by one kind act. This morning
on our way to our neighbor’s house—just across the street, but it was so cold (-29
without the wind) we opted to drive—I saw a helpless squirrel twitching on the
cold concrete, unable to move on its own, surely within minutes of dying of
exposure. I harkened back to my teenage years where I shot many of his great³
grandparents out of my city yard with bb guns and sling shots, just for the
pleasure of being a dickhead.
Somewhere between then and now, I developed a conscience,
and I needed to make amends for my killing by at least trying to save this one
fragile life. I hopped out of my minivan and approached the fuzzy rodent. I
knew he was paralyzed by cold so I scooped him up and into my arms where he
nuzzled in and accepted my warmth. His nose and eyes were covered in frost and
his limbs were curled in atrophy. He was in his last moments without me.
I can’t imagine dying from the cold, and surely thousands of
warm-blooded animals will expire on this coldest day of the year, but I cannot
save them all. I had this chance, and I would not waste it. I turned around to
go into my neighbor’s house where I asked for a shoe box. I received one and I
walked back to my van and drove about 100 yards to my home where I brought him downstairs,
named him (or her) Steve, and set him on a table. Now, we already own a rabbit,
so I got some food, and got the water bottle hanging drip ball thing from the
cage and went back to the box.
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| Frozen but not lifeless, s/he hangs on by a thread. |
I opened it up and he had curled into a complete circle and
was still twitching. I put the food down and put the dropper near his (or her)
mouth and she latched on with her (or his) mouth and little paws. She (or he)
of course didn’t understand that it had to be licked to get water so I shook it
gently until some bubbles came up and it (much better) let go and fell silently
asleep. I knew that this could be the last time I saw it alive, so I stroked
its fuzzy body calmly so its last ticks could be as comfortable as possible. I
closed the box and went back to the neighbor’s house for a couple hours.
When we arrived back home, I went straight downstairs and
pried the box open carefully, just in case. A spring-loaded ball of energetic
fur jumped out in a flash and Amanda scurried up the stairs as Steve (the
boy/girl squirrel) scampered awkwardly across the glassy floor and under a
couch. Shit.
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| Steve didn't seem grateful for my rescue, in fact, s/he acted down right defiant. |
Steve had been saved by the caring touch of a generous man,
and now that man was swatting at it with a fireplace broom, in coordination
with the strobe setting on my flashlight, to get it to a now-awaiting-Amanda
with a shirt to cover it up so we wouldn’t get rabies or A.I.D.S. and get it
back into the box for further review. The plan failed a few times but
eventually Steve ran all the way into the only room with a functional door
where we enclosed all of us. Amanda was on top of the chest freezer with a deck
brush, and I had my flashlight and the shirt when he made the mistake of
running right into a litter box cover that was lying on the floor. He was
trapped. He is still trapped. I’m not sure how I’m going to get him out
tomorrow, but I will worry about it then.
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| Safe for now, away from the freezing cold, Steve has access to freeze-dried fruits and vegetables, and water. Tomorrow will be the first day of the rest of his life. |
Life is a delicate balance between death and dying, and we
never know how or when it’s going to be our turn. We have the ability to either
watch death, or delay death, but never stop it entirely. I have no idea how
Steve will do tomorrow back in the elements, but I know now that at least he
has a chance, and that my neighbor doesn’t have to pick up a dead squirrel from
his driveway.
