I remember squirrel being a word I found incredibly difficult to learn to spell when I was in grade school. I am married to someone with such antipathy for the creatures that he threatens to run them over when they dash in front of the car (Reader, he is all talk). My mother had a moth-eaten squirrel coat in an attic that I loved playing dress-up with when little. I have even been in a car under attack by a squirrel gone wiggy from being sprayed when the county thought that was a clever way to fight bird disease. But with all this squirrely history, nothing tops the velvety sweetness of a baby squirrel. Here are two, brought to where my daughter works, she is the animal whisperer, by someone who saw them fall from a tree...no other details known, the person was not clear. She gave them some kitten formula (how I remember this well when I was chief wetnurse to five baby rats being raised on kitten formula - and yes, I am afraid of rats, oh, the irony). She drove them after work to a squirrel rehabber (go figure, a number of them in our vicinity) with her brother acting as wingman (I volunteered and was sweetly informed that she needed someone who could see in the dark and follow driving directions, that would not be me on either count). They are like velvet, those little gray coats. Their trusting baby legs cling to your fingers as they sleep dreaming their little squirrel dreams.
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update: the squirrel rehabilitition expert says they are doing very well, are about four weeks old, and are both little boys.
Way back when it took a huge 6-foot dish to get a satellite TV signal and you had to reorient the dish from satellite to satellite to get the different satellite feeds, squirrels got up in the dish housing where the motor was and built a nest. They chewed the insulation off the wires and shorted out the motor. My dad was livid. He climbed up on the roof, removed the nest, threw it in the dumpster (babies and all!) and actually bought a pellet pistol to shoot them. Both my mom and I were horrified when we found out later that he'd tossed a nest full of baby squirrels in the dumpster (by then it was too late to save them), but he was unrepentant. This is also the man who would not allow the pet dogs and cats we had growing up to come in the house. Now when he comes to my house, he's convinced the moment he walks in the door, every cat hair in the house is attracted to him like a magnet.
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