The Guardian

Is there a God? Do we have guides? Guardian angels?

These questions occurred to me during the month that I rehabbed a dehydrated, orphaned infant squirrel at home. He was so little, so vulnerable, so sweet, so funny. And for over 4 weeks his little life was in my hands.

Literally.

While he was sleeping and unaware, I brought him home in a flannel lined box with a microwaved rice sock to keep him warm during the trip. I drove more slowly than I ever have, being extra careful to avoid bumps as my free hand lay protectively on it's top.

Upon arrival I settled the box on a heating pad, but kept the sock in with him because this one was clearly a cuddler. I felt bad that he was all on his own... except for me. He'd push his little nose under the heavy, round sock, which imitates in shape and weight the body of a mother squirrel. I can't tell you how many times I tip toed into that room to lift the lid and check on him. I watched his breathing, and delighted in his funny sleeping positions. I kept a schedule and woke him at regular intervals, tested the temp of his milk on my wrist, and fed him, taking copious notes on his growth and behavior. Every time I checked I could see his ears had gotten pointier, his tail hair had grown visibly, his belly was furring over, or that his whiskers had come out. It was like I'd been given superpowers, and could watch his growth as if I possessed rapid-speed vision, or that time no longer existed as I knew it, and I had somehow stepped into a different plane of awareness and operation. It was, in a word, surreal.

He did not know that I was there. I was virtually invisible to him, a totally different species in fact, so huge he could never comprehend me, or the fact that I use computers and drive a car... things that just aren't within his realm of imagination. He simply did what he was born to do... eat, sleep and grow, destined to climb trees, play in the fresh air, forage for nuts to bury, make a nest, and find a little girl squirrel to have babies with... all because I was sheparding him through this stage of his little life.

During feeding, he knew when he was full; he'd pull away, instantly curl up in my palm and be out like a light, so soft, innocent, trusting and warm. Many times I cupped my other palm over him and just held him for a long time, to be sure he was in a very deep sleep before I'd ever so gently place him back in his bed, the cloth of which I'd change to fresh every single day. He'd only stir enough to push his little nose under the belly of that rice sock, and go back to his dreams. And I was ever-present, keeping watch.

Though I had a very busy adult human life, truthfully nothing was more important to me than overseeing his well being. I went to bed thinking about him, and woke up doing the same. I had a distinct sense of rightness and purpose. It was natural, easy, and completely joyful. I felt like it was the most special thing I could do with my own life.

And as I did all this, day after day, I thought: What if we had someone doing just the same thing-- steering us in the right direction, helping us grow, nurturing our development, keeping things warm and cozy... always there, looking out for us, even when things might appear go astray? Some One or some Thing in a form or from an existence that we can't quite comprehend but in whose hands we are safe? What if we have their full attention as it's their purpose, their life's work? What if, above all, we are as fully loved as I loved and still love this little boy squirrel? Can we just relax then, in good times and bad, and trust that we are being taken care of always?

Hmmm....

What do you think?

*thank you to jameswoodward.wordpress.com for the snow angel image*

Sunbath

This is a photo I'd print large and frame --one of my favorite for all the blurry, poorly cropped snaps I've taken of animals, because I am more focused on feeding them or am in some crazy situation or only have one hand free, etc...

This was my first rehab baby, Rocky a.k.a. Mouse. To me it says everything innocent, soft and sweet. Look at that little curled up foot... those tiny nails extended on that little hand behind his head. The soft pink tummy, the teeny whiskers starting to sprout. This is one to click on to enlarge! It will bring a little aaaaah to your day.

(I know, I have conspicuously left out mention of his little weenie. Even his tiny bits are cute)


Every day, after I'd fed a baby squirrel and it was nice and sleepy (the only guarantee they will stay somewhat still for about 20 minutes), I'd put it in a bowl lined with a fuzzy piece of cloth in the sun on my table. Besides that it was pleasantly warm and cozy, the way squirrels like life, I hoped each would absorb vitamin D to strengthen their growing bones.

You think he looks big here until you realize I have him in a fairly small cereal bowl... with all that room to spare. Only way you can tell this is a movie at first is by watching his breathing (if you ignore my swift camera moves).



A week or so later, when Rocky had finally opened his eyes and doubled in size (still tiny as you can see below), I caught him looking out the window at the world he would be a part of in all too short a time.

A cold front blew in last night. Lots of rain and in the mid 40's. I was driving home from Christmas shopping in a chilly downpour and wondered where he was right then. I hoped it was in a warm squirrel box in some kind rehabber's back yard, since he is only about 4 months old now. It's not as cold or snowy as squirrels in other parts of the country endure this time of year, I know. Maybe he is curled up, shielded by his now-bushy tail, dreaming of these blissful naps taken in the Indian summer's morning sun.

Rocky a.k.a Mouse the First Squirrel

The first orphaned squirrel I got to rehab at home came in about half hour before The Center was closing. A man from an animal shelter brought him, in a little cardboard carrier. I saw it coming in and wanted to know: What is in the box? I remember that now and smile. Little did I know then that destiny was unfolding...

Once the paperwork was done, I took the baby to Triage. I hovered nearby while he was checked out; I always do that as I want to learn all I can. But when squirrels come in I'm especially interested (quel suprise).

You never know when they come in what they've been through, but there are some signs. You look for bruises from falls, cuts, listen for wheezing, look for mites, etc. If you pinch the skin between their little shoulder blades and it stays pinched when you release it, that's your clue they're dehydrated. While subcutaneous fluids can be injected and will work it's way into their system, there are some circumstances where it's not the best thing to do. This little one was definitely dehydrated and had a few ant bites, but overall seemed OK and would not have to stay for a vet. I eagerly asked if I could feed him. When I was done I went to put him in with the rest but realized he needed to be fed at least twice more that night. I called out, "who is going to take him home?" and much to my shock and delight, the bosses said, "YOU ARE!"

I had filled out my own paperwork to be sub contracted as a rehabber with Texas Parks and Wildlife under The Center's boss's license, but I didn't think about when I'd take something home.

They knew I had an affinity for nursing squirrels. They set me up with all I needed and sent me packing with my precious cargo. I must have driven 10 MPH with my hand on his little carrier the entire way. I was excited and scared. I had a little baby to bring home!

I started him on a program of warm Ringers with a little esbilac for taste. Here's a picture of his scrawny little legs and his ribs still visible AFTER I'd been feeding for him for over 24 hours....

(click to enlarge any photo)

The next day I went 4 to 1 Ringers/Esbilac, then 3 to 1 then 2 to 1, the normal strength. That gave his system time to cleanse while hydrating him and getting increasing nutrition in there. For days he showed interest in the first half cc but the lay limp in my hand while I painstakingly gave him another 2-3.5 cc's, 6 times a day. It was like he was asleep, but I saw that his little throat was swallowing, so I continued, literally one drop at a time. The whole time I affirmed him -- that he was strong, and would grow and be furry and get to play in the trees and chase little girl squirrels and have babies one day. It was not by design that I did this; It was more like my inner monologue turned outward.

Soon he looked like this -- still small but much, much better. I was officially hooked.

In noticed he had a few little bumps on his back, on his right ear... and you can see one on his knuckle above. And the skin on his tail, chest and thighs was flaking. I took him in to The Center and he was given a little drop of something between his shoulders for parasites (internal and external), and a mild steroid cream for his skin, which, over the next several days, I continued to apply at home. They say if you find bugs or scabs on a squirrel get them off, and they took off the his ear, leaving a an indentation.

I didn't yet have a tank with a heated top yet, and he was too small for that anyway, so I had him in a long shoebox with holes on the top over a heating pad that never turned off. I heated a rice sock in the microwave and put it in with him among fresh fleece and soft cotton cloths, which I changed every day for my boy.

After feedings, I put him back in his box and watched him use all his might to push his little nose under the rice sock. I didn't know then then that most squirrels like to have their nose under something to sleep. When he was still weak, I'd help him out by denting the underside of the thing with my index finger and lifting it up so he could get his nose under. He'd completely relax into sweet dreams. Here he's got his sniffer nestled under his bedding.

Unsure if he'd make it, and keenly aware that I was responsible for this little life, I kept vigil night and day. I must have looked in on him with trepidation 100 times every 24 hours, but each peek filled my heart to the brim with gratitude and joy. Not only was he breathing, I literally saw significant growth each time I lifted that lid. I kid you not. It was like high speed photography or something. And his poses grew to be so amusing I started taking pictures. I kept the camera next to his box because squirrels leap a lot when dead asleep, and hence never hold a position for long. It's amazing they don't wake up but I figure it's a byproduct of their wired up systems.

I did a whole post HERE on his positions. It's hilarious so please check it out. Guaranteed to make you smile.

To be continued!