Orphans

There was a big storm coming through. It was so windy the trees were bending over. There was a loud crash in the back yard. My daughter Mandy came into the office where I was surfing the web to tell me that a tree fell down.

“Which one?”

“The one by the bunny pen.”

“Did it hit anything?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

I continued working for a few more minutes. Then it hit me… is that the one where the squirrels live?

I got up, put on my sweatshirt and my boots, and went outside to take a look around. Sure enough, the top of a tree had fallen off, and it was the one I had been worried about. It had been one of those trees with a hole in the trunk up toward the top, and I had often seen squirrels running up to the hole or peaking out of it.

I started looking around on the ground to see if there were any injured animals. It wasn’t long before I saw a baby squirrel. It was laying across a rock. Poor little thing. I went over to it and picked it up (squirrels do not carry rabies). As soon as I touched it, it started squeaking in a panic. It was alive!

I ran inside to tell Mandy. She put on a sweatshirt and came out to help me look for others.

We searched for about an hour, as the sky grew dark and the driving rain soaked us to the bone. But if we had missed one, surely it would have died of exposure and dehydration. We found 4 in all, but we searched long afterwards to make sure we looked between every fallen branch and under every bundle of oak leaves.

The first thing we needed to do was warm them. They were so cold. I got an electric heating pad and put it in a box. I put a sheet over it the pad and turned it on. The babies piled up on each other like puppies, soaking up the heat.

The web has a lot of information on caring for orphaned baby squirrels. Some of it is conflicting, but for the most part: (1) Keep them warm. (2) Keep them hydrated. (3) Try to reunite them with their mother.

I kept them for three days. I spent long afternoons reading a book out in the yard - far enough away so as not to frighten the mother, but near enough so I could watch over the box of baby squirrels I had placed at the base of the tree, hoping she would come back for them. I gave them a sugar/salt/water mixture from an eye dropper every 4 hours, even at night. I cleaned all of the fleas off of them. I checked on them all the time.

Finally, I gave in to the fact that the mother was not coming back for them. She must have gotten spooked when the tree fell. Squirrel mothers are generally extremely loyal and doting. But I was completely out of energy.

I called a local wildlife rehabilitator, and she agreed to take them in. When I delivered the box of squirrels, she said they were in fantastic shape and they would do fine. And they were just opening their eyes.

I gave her a donation toward food and supplies. Wildlife rehabbers pay for everything out of their own pockets. And now I realize what exhausting work it must be.

I’d like to try to remember her, and send her donations every once in a while. I believe in the work that she is doing and appreciate that she does it.