Pandemic or not, the babies won’t wait.

I’ve been worried the past two weeks…what if I have a house full of babies and I get sick? Who will feed them? I even considered holding off on taking any until things have calmed down.

I didn’t really get a choice.

The first squirrel came in this afternoon. The woman who found her, came as far as the porch and held out a box at arm’s length. I reached in and pulled out a baby fox squirrel and took her quickly in the house. My records may be a bit shabby this year. I barely remembered the woman’s name and that she was from Traverse City.

She did tell me while on the phone that her cat brought this baby home. I explained that there might not be much hope with the cat having it in it’s mouth, but she seemed desperate for me to try. I kind of understand that desperation.

Things seem pretty bleak and hopeless right now. The virus is in Traverse City and the cases are growing. We all feel helpless. Handwashing and social distancing just don’t seem to be enough to combat this. People are going to die. Maybe people we know. Maybe people we love. Maybe us.
I really can’t do anything about that. I can only try to keep myself and those I keep close, as healthy as I can.

I can do something about the squirrel.

She seems healthy. Maybe we got lucky and the cat never broke the skin. I can’t find any wounds and she is already taking to the formula. Tonight I came in the studio and she was snuffling around in her box and making those baby squirrel sounds that I hear, even in my sleep.

Thankfully she’s old enough to go through the night without feeding, but I know I’ll wake up and feed her anyway. It’s amazing how that works. I don’t use alarm clocks to wake me…I just wake up when a baby needs me.
We’ll know by tomorrow if the cat infected her. The bacteria they carry in their mouths kills within 24 hours. Hopefully she’ll be fine. Hopefully we’ll all be fine. Hopefully, I won’t get sick.

That’s a lot of “Hopes”, but right now we need all the “Hopes” we can muster.

Stay well. Stay hopeful. Stay kind.

I am the worst mom ever….at least as far as Ki Ki is concerned.
Yesterday I was out in the garden shed putting away the last of the snowmen and some fake greens. She ran in with me and wouldn’t come out. So I went off to do something else and left the door open.

Later I went into the other shed for a clean sap bucket. I had no idea that she followed me in and crawled to the back. I left and latched the door.
Around dinner time, the Keeks didn’t show. Nor did she later in the evening when she normally comes in for a nap. I was hoping that she had made a kill somewhere (not one of my chickens this time) and wasn’t hungry

. When I went to bed I wondered about her and looked out at the sheds to see if the electric candles in the window were still there and on. I figured that if she was trying to get out, she would have knocked it down. Both candles were on.

This morning. Still no Ki Ki. Sophie seemed a little lost and I was getting worried, yet hoping that she was testing her independence. I had a morning appointment and left. When I came home? No Keeks. The stupid turtle had opened the back door and I had to trudge all the way to the goose pen to retrieve him. Sophie of course, followed. I called for Ki Ki several times.

On the way back to the house I propped all 40 pounds of angry turtle on my hip and opened the garden shed again. No Keeks and nothing was disturbed. I shut the door and went back to the house.to warm the turtle. (He peed down my leg and into my boot in protest.)

Then I realized. Sophie didn’t come in. She was standing and staring at the other shed. The candle was NOT in the window. I ran out and opened the door. 15 pounds of cat bounced off my chest and tackled Sophie in a joyous reunion.

Try as I might, she would not let me pet her. She kind of snort-growled at me and sauntered off to the house to sit in front of the “Magic Box of Sustenance” (AKA the fridge). I fed her gobs of fresh burger, which she might have choked on for all the purring.

My punishment consisted of her directly knocking over all the begonia plants in the window and sitting with her back to me. It took several hours and another handful of burger to buy forgiveness, but she is now laying on the floor with one paw holding my foot.

I really wish she didn’t have her claws out. I’m afraid to move.