Sit and Stay

Everyone probably has some interesting stories about how they have met people in their lives. As a veterinarian for over 20 years I have met a lot of people-some, like the squirrel ladies, have a special place in my heart. Here is their story:

After college, I moved back to the same community where my family has lived for the past 35 years. Working full time and trying to settle into a new home didn’t leave time for meeting any of my new neighbors until I received a phone call late one Sunday afternoon. I had just gotten home from working a busy and difficult day by myself at the hospital-I was tired and a little cranky, looking forward to a nap on my couch with one my kitties (they always know how to make me feel better). The phone rang and when I answered it the caller said something like “I’m one of your neighbors and I heard you were a vet. We have some baby squirrels that fell out of their nest and we are worried about them. Our vet won’t see them without charging us so I wondered if you wouldn’t mind looking at them.”

Although the ladies and I chuckle about it now, I did feel slightly taken advantage of since I didn’t know these people, or any others in the neighborhood for that matter. None the less, I felt like I should try to help. When I got to the house, the ladies told me that their vet had advised they put the babies in a box at the bottom of the tree (a giant fir) and hope the mother came for them. They had done that and then fretted all afternoon- there had been no mom sighting and one of the little ones had died. We went out to the back yard and sure enough there were four very young, tiny and cold baby squirrels, two who had sustained serious head injuries in the long fall. The hope that mom would retrieve and care for them was gone so the three of us went to work. I warned them that I didn’t know anything specifically about squirrels, that I doubted the two injured ones would survive but that we needed to get them warm and feed them and see what happened. I spent the rest of the afternoon with the squirrel ladies tending to the young ones and by the time I left I was confident that if TLC and love could heal them, they were in the right place.

The two injured babies did not survive but the other two thrived under the care of the squirrel ladies. They were kept safe in a big cage but were let out to run around with supervision. They were talkative, amusing and fast as lightening and the squirrel ladies showered them with love and attention. As the young ones grew, their adventures included exploring the yard, climbing trees, burying treasures. When it was time to go back inside they came when called. The squirrel ladies and I became friends and I visited them often.

Eventually as summer waned into fall it was time to let the two go. Although the ladies knew it was the right thing, I know it was difficult to do. For the first few weeks, the pair stayed in the yard, scampering up and down the big fir and oak trees. Gradually they ventured farther away, but visited frequently where they always got a peanut or two to store away for winter. Winter came and the squirrel ladies often wondered about the fate of the pair they had saved and cared for. And then the oddest thing happened. Early in the spring there was a knock on the squirrel ladies back window-the pair had come back to visit and of course get some peanuts. They stayed in the area for a good part of the spring and summer and then disappeared again in the fall. This went on for a couple more years although their visits grew fewer and shorter. It’s been eight years but the squirrel ladies still talk about their experience in raising the little ones who undoubtedly would not have survived with them. And who knows, some of the many squirrels in our neighborhood may be descendants of those two lucky ones.