Rain Man
08-10-2007, 07:52 PM
I had orange jello and orange juice for dinner last night.
Why, you may ask?
Because of the squirrel.
I was informed upon arriving home from work last night that we had a tragedy on our front sidewalk. I went out, and saw a sight that would make any sensitive man weep.
An injured squirrel lay on the sidewalk, hurt, trying to move. He was alert, and his eyes moved to look at me, but he was motionless, lying on his right side. There were no visible injuries.
I bent down and asked him what happened. He was down, he was hurt, he didn't remember. I figured it was either bubonic plague, in which case I was going to die along with him, or he had slipped and fallen the 20 feet or so from the Maple tree to the sidewalk.
I had two choices at this point, because I couldn't just leave the injured fellow lying on the sidewalk. The Maple Tree Squirrels are a part of the family. I could either call animal control, who would certainly euthanize him, or I could get him some bed rest and hope that perhaps he had just fallen and was stunned. The key was whether his neck or back was broken.
He wasn't moving, and as with any accident your greatest fear is a broken back or neck. I did a quick check of vitals, and he tried to move, but could only partway move his upper body. A check of his back legs showed no sensitivity or movement. Bad sign. His eyes were alert and watching me, but he seemed to be barely conscious at the same time, and his eyes would slowly close if I stopped moving.
I checked his tail, and hooray! His tail whipped around. No broken back, apparently, though he still couldn't move.
I went to the garage and made a little tiny hospital gurney out of a towel and a paint roller tray. I put on some thick gardening gloves and came back out to the little fella. Gently, ever so gently, I picked him up and transferred him to the gurney. When I did so, I set him down on all four legs to see if there were any visible injuries to his right side. Good news - no protruding bones or anything.
At this point, a very positive sign happened. He actually took a few steps off of the gurney, but was still obviously very groggy. I went to pick him up and he actually very slowly tottered about ten feet. No apparent neck or back breaks, then.
At this point, my concern was still disease, or possibly internal injuries from the fall. However, if he could move, I figured he had a chance, which meant that I wouldn't call animal control. At least not tonight.
I picked him up and carried him to the maple tree, and held him up to the trunk. No dice. He never even tried to latch onto the bark. I then put him back onto the gurney and carried him up onto the front porch. He flopped back onto his right side and lay listless.
The problem at this point was safety from predators. I couldn't leave him in the front yard or on the porch, or he would be easy pickings for any passing dog or cat. But our back yard has two cats in it, and that would get ugly. So where to put him?
After some scouting, I remembered that we have a very small walking space between our garage and our neighbor's garage. It's about a foot wide, and is bordered by two garages, a fence, and a gate to our back yard. It's about 25 feet long, and actually stays pretty shady.
I crawled back behind the bushes, opened the gate, and set his gurney back there, along with a little cat kibble and a water dish, even though I wasn't sure if squirrels actually drink water. He lay there, and closed his eyes as I watched over him.
I figured I'd give him the night, and one of three things would happen in the morning. Either he'd be dead, in which case it would be clear that he'd been sick or injured fatally, or he'd still be lying there, in which case I would probably have to call animal control to have him euthanized, or best case, he'd be up and walking around, in which case he'd have a fighting chance. Hoping he wasn't in too much pain, I left him for the night. By that time, it was 10:30 p.m., too late for dinner, so I just scrounged for whatever I could find in the fridge.
This morning, I got ready for work, but my mind was still on my patient from the maple tree. When I was dressed, I went into the back yard, crawled behind the bushes, and gingerly opened the gate, only to find....
...the patient was gone.
I guess he must've slipped and fallen from his tree, and after a night of bed rest in his hospital gurney, he recovered enough to actually climb the fence and get out. Here's hoping that the little fella is back in the maple tree, recovering from his accident.
Now, if I remember my Aesop's fables correctly, at some point I'm going to be thrown into a gladiatorial ring against a squirrel, and we'll recognize each other and I won't be gnawed to death.
Why, you may ask?
Because of the squirrel.
I was informed upon arriving home from work last night that we had a tragedy on our front sidewalk. I went out, and saw a sight that would make any sensitive man weep.
An injured squirrel lay on the sidewalk, hurt, trying to move. He was alert, and his eyes moved to look at me, but he was motionless, lying on his right side. There were no visible injuries.
I bent down and asked him what happened. He was down, he was hurt, he didn't remember. I figured it was either bubonic plague, in which case I was going to die along with him, or he had slipped and fallen the 20 feet or so from the Maple tree to the sidewalk.
I had two choices at this point, because I couldn't just leave the injured fellow lying on the sidewalk. The Maple Tree Squirrels are a part of the family. I could either call animal control, who would certainly euthanize him, or I could get him some bed rest and hope that perhaps he had just fallen and was stunned. The key was whether his neck or back was broken.
He wasn't moving, and as with any accident your greatest fear is a broken back or neck. I did a quick check of vitals, and he tried to move, but could only partway move his upper body. A check of his back legs showed no sensitivity or movement. Bad sign. His eyes were alert and watching me, but he seemed to be barely conscious at the same time, and his eyes would slowly close if I stopped moving.
I checked his tail, and hooray! His tail whipped around. No broken back, apparently, though he still couldn't move.
I went to the garage and made a little tiny hospital gurney out of a towel and a paint roller tray. I put on some thick gardening gloves and came back out to the little fella. Gently, ever so gently, I picked him up and transferred him to the gurney. When I did so, I set him down on all four legs to see if there were any visible injuries to his right side. Good news - no protruding bones or anything.
At this point, a very positive sign happened. He actually took a few steps off of the gurney, but was still obviously very groggy. I went to pick him up and he actually very slowly tottered about ten feet. No apparent neck or back breaks, then.
At this point, my concern was still disease, or possibly internal injuries from the fall. However, if he could move, I figured he had a chance, which meant that I wouldn't call animal control. At least not tonight.
I picked him up and carried him to the maple tree, and held him up to the trunk. No dice. He never even tried to latch onto the bark. I then put him back onto the gurney and carried him up onto the front porch. He flopped back onto his right side and lay listless.
The problem at this point was safety from predators. I couldn't leave him in the front yard or on the porch, or he would be easy pickings for any passing dog or cat. But our back yard has two cats in it, and that would get ugly. So where to put him?
After some scouting, I remembered that we have a very small walking space between our garage and our neighbor's garage. It's about a foot wide, and is bordered by two garages, a fence, and a gate to our back yard. It's about 25 feet long, and actually stays pretty shady.
I crawled back behind the bushes, opened the gate, and set his gurney back there, along with a little cat kibble and a water dish, even though I wasn't sure if squirrels actually drink water. He lay there, and closed his eyes as I watched over him.
I figured I'd give him the night, and one of three things would happen in the morning. Either he'd be dead, in which case it would be clear that he'd been sick or injured fatally, or he'd still be lying there, in which case I would probably have to call animal control to have him euthanized, or best case, he'd be up and walking around, in which case he'd have a fighting chance. Hoping he wasn't in too much pain, I left him for the night. By that time, it was 10:30 p.m., too late for dinner, so I just scrounged for whatever I could find in the fridge.
This morning, I got ready for work, but my mind was still on my patient from the maple tree. When I was dressed, I went into the back yard, crawled behind the bushes, and gingerly opened the gate, only to find....
...the patient was gone.
I guess he must've slipped and fallen from his tree, and after a night of bed rest in his hospital gurney, he recovered enough to actually climb the fence and get out. Here's hoping that the little fella is back in the maple tree, recovering from his accident.
Now, if I remember my Aesop's fables correctly, at some point I'm going to be thrown into a gladiatorial ring against a squirrel, and we'll recognize each other and I won't be gnawed to death.