I'm so cute

Today, I got to play in a strawberry patch. I ate a few more grasshoppers (fabulous) and a cherry tomato, fresh from the vine. Also, I was a model all day - pictures galore! See?


Isn't that a good look for me? I look so wild!


But, this is my true favorite pasttime. I love this hand.

Another big day

It was awfully hot today. When Biggun came home at lunch to eat with me, she saw that I was draped out on the bottom of my room, panting. She decided to take me outside so I could run about in the grass in the shade. Good thinking on her part. Apparently, she feels I am not getting the proper nutrition and she read someplace that ground squirrels eat bugs. Especially grasshoppers. Guess what I had for lunch? Two grasshoppers! A green one and a brown and yellow one. They are fantastic! I don't know why I'm just now finding this out. As I've said before, she's negligent. She was horrified, too, at the pleasure I displayed over my crunchy lunch, but she's the one who caught them for me. She says I need a well-balanced diet and that she will try to give me more natural food. Whatever. All I know is I'd like to eat a few of those 'hoppers each day. I hear earthworms are a treat, as well. Anyhow, I finished it off with a delicate aster for dessert. It's been a good day.


Mmmmmm, tasty!

Near death experiences

I have found I live the moments of my life between my narrow escapes with death. It seems I am always knocking on death's door. I've been abandoned in the wilderness and almost froze and drowned and worse; I almost choked to death on a banana; there was the time when I was dropped on my head on the kitchen floor. My most recent brush with death was this past weekend (you probably wonder how I know all this terminology; I watch a lot of movies and I'm a fairly quick learner. Look at me operating my own blog, after all!). It started last Friday. I'd caught a cold. It was Biggun's fault; she was being a negligent caretaker. It's been cold and rainy all my life so far but Biggun did not put the heat lamp on my terrarium once I was moved over. I guess she thought I'd stay warm enough in the newspaper shavings and bits o' cloth. Nope. I'm small! I don't even weigh an ounce. I don't create nearly enough body heat to keep myself warm when I sleep, thus, my temperature drops alarmingly. Add the damp to this situation and SQUEAK! I got a cold. I probably would have been OK, but that night, while drinking my milk before bedtime, I aspirated. It came out my nose and I coughed and spluttered. Then, Ms. Negligent Caretaker was gone all the next day and I was left alone in my cold home. So, by Sunday, my breathing was raspy and I was in poor condition. Finally, when I stiffened up and started wheezing, she thought maybe she should take me to the vet. And she did. You should have seen the waterworks; I'm suprised she didn't drown me in her tears. Come to think of it, I make her cry all the time. Kee kee kee. Anyhow. The vet told her I had pneumonia and that there wasn't much of a chance of my survival because I'm so small.
I felt awful. I was too hot and I was too cold and I wanted to sleep but I couldn't curl up because I couldn't breathe. It was kind of scary, really. Biggun kept crying and apologizing and telling me she loves me. I don't actually remember much, but I found out later that she took two days off work to hold me. She wound up holding me for three days straight because the kind doctor had told her that my only chance lay in keeping me at or above 80 degrees and making sure I ate. Well, she held me in her hands constantly and she gave me a few drops of milk every hour. Also, the nice doctor gave me some medicine that tastes like bananas. Well, it's supposed to, though, really, it doesn't. I really liked it when I was sick. And somehow, between the constant warmth of her hands (she stayed up nearly through the night each night and when she had to sleep, she put me in a box and stuck it next to her while she dozed!), the hourly feedings and the medication, I survived. Biggun told me I was tough and a fighter every time I'd get a little better. I just kept breathing, but if she wants to think I'm some sort of macho guy, I'm not going to tell her otherwise. Anyhow, on Tuesday, I opened my eyes. She says my eyes were shut from Sunday on and they would drift open from time to time, all glazed over. I don't remember that. She said I was limp and my legs didn't work and that she thought every second was my last and that she held me mostly because she didn't want me to die alone. I don't remember that, either, but thanks for the vote of confidence, Oh Negligent One! Geez. And I found out my supposed-banana-flavored medicine is actually quite horrible and I hate it! Yet she still forces it down my throat! Ick!

I have a sweet setup now. I'm in the sun room. It's soooo warm in here. I have a heat lamp always pointed at my hiding box, so, really, I have a little sauna. She picks me dandelions and gives me walnuts and holds me all the time. She says she's really happy I survived. Like I said, I just kept breathing. I've apparently left death's door again and am now merely in the neighborhood and it looks like there's a whole wide world out there just waiting for me to scamper through.

Walnuts and Bananas

Ok, so, my favorite foods: Bananas and Walnuts. Talk about delicious. I'm not allowed to have pieces of fresh banana anymore, however, since the "incident" in which I nearly choked to death on said fresh banana. I was just so excited by it and I sort of forgot to chew while I was eating and I had a big, long, slimy, string of food going from my hands to my stomach and I realized I couldn't breath and I couldn't swallow. So, I panicked. I tried to pull it out of my mouth, but that stuff is slippery once you get it started. Biggun panicked even more and she tried to pull it out of my mouth, but couldn't because there wasn't much to grab onto and I kept pushing her giant, sausage fingers away from my face. She finally used her long nails (not as long as mine, though hers may be stronger right now) and yanked the piece out of my mouth. It didn't help, though. I still had some stuck in my throat. So, this freaky woman hauled me off to the kitchen to get the syringe that I use for my nightly milk feedings. She took out the plunger, shoved the syringe down my throat and pretty much sucked my guts right up and out! It was pretty grotesque if you ask me, but it worked. The banana came out and I sat panting for a few minutes before curling up to sleep in her hand. That was a couple of weeks ago and I've not been allowed a piece of fresh banana since. All I get now is mashed up baby food out of a little jar. Yuck. Ok, I like it, but not as much as the real thing. But, guess what she gave me two days ago? A walnut!! Oh my furry sakes alive, that thing was GOOD! And fun to eat! I could hold it and crunch on it and it's fabulous. She gave me a pine nut, too...also very delectable. And then, out of the blue, last night, I realized that I could stash my nut pieces in my cheeks!!! What a terrific find! I packed my cheeks as full as I could and ran off to then twitch a bit to get everything back out. Then I put it all back in. It's good fun and makes Biggun laugh like you wouldn't believe. And then I have something to do later...I can eat my stored walnut while we watch movies. I tell ya...this life of mine gets better and better.

My new life

Since I have nothing better to do, I pay attention. My eyes are open now; they started cracking three days after I started my new life. My hearing is pretty good, too. I even have teeth now and have found that nibbling is good fun.

At any rate, here's what I know: I live with a person woman. She's a freak. She worries all the time. But, she's warm (as in body temperature) and she pays me a lot of attention. I like these things about her. She used to keep me in a small box lined with paper towels, but her brother brought her a terrarium and that's where I live now. I have a metal wheel, a water bottle that I don't use, a cardboard tube which I do use, a hiding box, two pinecones and a bowl to play in. Also, there is usually fresh grass in the corner. I hate it. I hate it all. As soon as the woman walks by (let's call her Biggun, shall we? It's cute), I jump up and start yelling for her. She washes her hands and picks me up. She knows she's not supposed to do this; she's been told. She does it anyhow. It seems she's the wild creature, not I. Once I'm being held, I'm happy. Sometimes she puts me in her pocket where it's nice and warm. Sometimes she sticks me in a ball and I can run around slamming into things and it doesn't really hurt. Sometimes she lets me just run around free on the floor, but only if she's watching me. This past weekend, she let me play outside. I hated it. I found her right away and scurried up the pant leg. That will teach her!

My big goal is to become more coordinated and quick so that I can run about with great speed. I'm fascinated with the so-called "power cords", but she stops me before I can even get to them. One day, though...

Many other people have come to visit me. I appear to be quite the attraction. Of course, they all fall in love with me immediately. Have I mentioned that people think I'm adorable? Anyhow, I enjoy running up their clothes to the warm spots; it makes them squeak and squirm. It's a bit like being back in the ol' nest.

I listen to Biggun talk. I like to curl up on her shirt while she's on the phone. It's very soothing plus I can keep up on gossip. She used to say that as soon as I was eating solid food, she was putting me in squirrel rehab so that I could be reintroduced to the wild. Let me just say: I don't THINK so!! She says it's cruel to keep wild animals in cages and away from their natural environments. She doesn't think it's legal to have wild animals in captivity. She's pretty sure I'm going to grow up and rip her arm off. But, look at it this way: I hate dirt. I love to cuddle. She put a bunch of dirt in my cage and I freaked. I mean FREAKED! It's not soft! It's not warm! I'd rather burrow into my newspaper shavings and bits of cloth. Even better, I'd prefer curling on Biggun's lap while she reads or watches movies! She also says she was told that I'm going to become mean when I reach sexual maturity. But, all teenagers are hard to deal with. Let's not even worry about that right now. My plan: never wean. It's like a sick Peter Pan Complex, I know, but a squirrel's gotta do what a squirrel's gotta do!

She's been feeding me kitten milk substitute, watering it down. She started adding Soy milk. I don't know why. Like I said, this girl is a freak. She's heard that kitten milk is good for me. She's heard it will kill me. I'm not dead and I've been living on this stuff for a little over three weeks. I think I'm going to be Ok.

You know, I've also given some thought to pretending to be crippled in some way. I mean, you can't release a crippled animal back into the wild, right? It would die a horrible and scary death! That would be cruel! Thus, I throw myself wildly from high places, such as the top of my hiding box or wheel or from Biggun's lap in hopes of mildly spraining or twisting something. Yes, I realize these are rash measures, but really, why would I want to live in the ground by myself always worried about foxes and hawks? Why? What would make me want to gather or hunt my own food (I'm supposed to add grasshoppers and mice to my diet when I grow up. Right now, that sounds foul. Bananas, on the other paw...) And who would sing to me (I did mention her freakishness, right?)? My new life is fine the way it is. I don't intend on letting that change any time soon.

My History

My eyes were still closed. I'd never seen the world. All I knew was my burrow, my squirming siblings and Mom. And then our little den flooded and we had to move quickly. As Mom carried us out, one by one, the den grew bigger and colder, but not as cold as the outside world was when it was my turn. I was last. I had been afraid, alone in the nest, silent and wet, until she returned to carry me to our new home. We went above and it was raining. It was cold. It was scary. Then something terrible happened. She dropped me. There was loud noise and I was tossed away from my mother, left on the ground. She didn't come back. I don't know what happened to her. I didn't know what to do, how to get to my new home. I was alone. And I couldn't see yet. So, I scrambled around, but I grew tired. The rain stopped, but I was still cold. Things were happening around me. I tried to move, but my little arms and legs just didn't get me to where I needed to be, and I knew I needed to be safe at home with my brothers and sisters and Mom. And then there was noise. A lot of noise. And the ground moved all around me. I tried even harder to run, but I just squirmed weakly. Then the strangest thing happened. Something picked me up and moved me, but it was not my mother. It did not smell like her, or like my siblings. It was not warm and furry. And then the thing put me back down, under a bush, judging by the smell. All was again silent. And cold. I was so cold. I tried again to find my way to something familiar, but I rolled and was pinned under a branch. The rain started again and I was splashed in the face by the drops that dribbled down past the needles of the bush. I wanted my family. I got colder and colder and stopped moving around. I was dying. And then the thing came back. It picked me up again and after a moment, I was warm. I was on skin, but not skin like my brothers and sisters had before their fur came in. It was different. But it was warm. I fell asleep. Next I knew, I was eating! Milk! Not the milk I used to drink from my mother, but milk just the same. It was warm. I didn't realize I was so hungry! I ate until I got sick. I was so excited I blew milk bubbles out of my nose and mouth. Then I was washed, but not in the normal fashion...I was covered by a warm, wetness and was washed all at once. I found out later it was a washcloth, but, at the time, I couldn't see, so I didn't know. My mom was gone. I didn't know what happened to my brothers and sisters, but I felt that I was finally safe. I went to sleep again, this time in a warm, soft little place and I thought about staying alive.