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December 2009 
Spring Babies
Posted on Mar 29th, 2009
by 
Bird
Bird
Uninvited Guest
Rusty the squirrel made like Santa Claus at my house. "I'm here," he softly muttered. Scratch, scratch, scratch. Purrrrrrrr. He's about five weeks old.
When I got home after work, Raven, my beagle-mix, took deep breaths in the crack between the wall and floor and pawed on the tile of my fireplace to let me know exactly where to find him. A flashlight behind the woodstove insert proved her right.
Before we pounded apart the metal facing on the fireplace, I got a towel to catch Rusty. I suspected we might be in for an adventure. I couldn't quite reach him so I got a broom. The flat part didn't do me any good. With very little effort, I gently prodded Rusty towards the corner below me with the tip of the handle. I was wearing an oven mitt.
"Okay, okay," he said, "Why are you pushing me around?" He didn't know to be afraid. I put him in my towel and walked outside.
As it turns out, baby squirrels get chilled easily. Rusty had no intentions of trying to solve his own problem. There was no fight at all in that sweet baby. He just wanted to be warm ... and a little fuller than was now ... and a lot more loved--like mom did it!
"I won't be any problem," he promised batting his eyelids from my shoulder. By this time he was flattened against my chest holding on with all four feet.
My husband told me to let him go. Let him go? Where is the squirrel search party waiting with open arms for little Rusty? He was already shivering. With rain on the way, I made the executive decision to take him to the wildlife rehabilitator tomorrow.
I called her up. She told me what to feed him. I went to two or three stores collecting supplies. By 9:00 p.m. Rusty was nursing on a syringe. 10 cc's of squirrel milk --One tsp. heavy cream (it doesn't have lactose), one tsp. powdered esbilac (dog milk replacer), two tsp. water at 98-102 degrees. I tested it on my wrist.
He wouldn't eat it at first because it was too cool and it tasted funny. He kept looking in the warm towel for the nipple. He asked me, "Don't you know that's how it's done?" His voice really did sound like those little animals on the Walt Disney cartoons. Dang irresistible critter! He held on to the syringe with both paws.
Just as my heart was melting, I briefly toyed with the idea of keeping Rusty around and reintroducing him to life in the woods when he was a little older. I could let him nurse a couple times day and forage on cherrios, raw peanuts, acorns, parrot seed, fruit and nuts, oatmeal and rice protein powder ... oh and you have to make sure they get enough calcium ... and ....that's about the time the mouse appeared from behind the washer.
Wait a minute. I've already been through that whole philosophical argument --feeling bad for mice. I set some traps, put Rusty back in the cage, and thought about the big picture.
I have three dogs. Raccoons scavenge my yard nightly. Snakes hunt here when the birds start laying eggs and especially if I have mice! No. If Rusty has a chance, it's will come through being socialized with other squirrels.
I saw a baby this morning about Rusty's age on the side of the road. His body was empty and the crows were looking in the refrigerator for breakfast. Yep, I am very happy to do the right thing for Rusty. In the process, I'll be helping all the other baby squirrels that have been orphaned by donating my big new container of powdered Esbilac to Beverly Shofstall at "Free Again" when I drop him off.
The frogs started chirping in my tank downstairs as we tried to fall asleep.
"Why are those frogs so happy?" I asked.
My husband replied, "Because they like being near the new baby squirrel.
Here's Beverly Shofstall's information:
Conservation through Rehabilitation and Education
© Free Again, Inc.
4031 Big Muddy Road Carterville, IL 62918
618-988-1067
More Where That Came From?
A couple days later while I was working in the garden I heard a suspicious rustling. There ARE squirrels nesting in the chimney--just as the wildlife rehabilitator suspected. A hop on the roof for a quick inspection reveals plenty of room around the stonework for a critter to get inside. The nest is located about halfway down the chimney.
Squirrels give birth in the Spring (January-April) and in the Fall (August-September). I told my husband to wait a month. Let that mama rear those babies herself (since we couldn't reach them anyway). After meeting Rusty, we have a good idea just how old they are ... and how long that will take. Baby squirrels can take care of themselves after 12-14 weeks of age.
Wrangling Baby Squirrels
We found Crusty right after she fell out of the nest and was still exploring the chimney. Being an experienced squirrel catcher now, I thought I would take an active role in her capture.
Except that I shortened her time away from the warmth of nest, I'm not sure I did her any favors. I used a stick to coax her out of the corner of the shelf above the wood heater ... and a broom ... and a flashlight that kept going out right when I needed it most.
It was an exercise in frustration for both of us. By the time I had her in hand (after several tries), she had mouthful of soot. That's how she earned her name plus the way she tried to defend herself against the things that scared her.
Fortunately, she was very gentle with me as I wiped the black off her fur around her nose and mouth. The sun was going down as we lifted off the (ha ha) lid on the chimney and dropped her back in with her two or three siblings. My neighbor smiled watching our adventures from his porch. The chimney will get fixed when they're gone. In the meantime, I hope they learn to climb!
.
They All Fall Down
We heard a commotion, looked at each other, and said, "Oh no! Not again!" It was time to get the flashlight once more. Yep! There were two babies in the corner. After my house guests left today, I took the face off the fireplace inset again to save some stuck and squealing baby squirrels. They're a week older and twice as big, but still as gentle as they were before.
I put my oven mitt on and lifted the first one out. A dish towel over him kept him warm and calm. I petted him and offered to let him go on the roof. He wasn't interested. Still shivering he stayed put and waited for me to come up with a better solution. I let him go behind the big flower pots on the front porch.
The second one was big and just as submissive. I put them together. That's when I discovered the other two. That meant all four santas made it down the chimney! I think the nest collapsed from the weight of them.
I couldn't get a hold of the third one with the oven mitt on. She was wiley. Once she saw that the oven mitt elevator had made it past the metal facing she jumped up my arm and ran across my shoulders. Bolting under the chairs and around the corner, I caught her easily barehanded, but apparently it wasn't a great hold because she didn't wait for me to put her with the others. She scampered across the deck and disappeared underneath. That's storage area. It was no big deal to move some stuff we had piled under there and pick her up again. She let me. But once again, as soon as she was free she over reacted, ran right past the others, and made like a rock in the fireplace with only her feet and tail exposed. I left her there for the time being.
The fourth one was a little upset and growled at me when I wouldn't let him go as I walked out the door. I checked my own energy. Yeah, I was still a little excited from the last encounter. I thought about the dog whisperer on the National Geographic channel, changed the emotion I was projecting, and got a good result. The last one stayed with the others. Their faces were stacked three high watching me from behind the pots while I started on stage two of my new experiment.
I procured an old flannel sheet, a plastic tub with a lid and a roll of duct tape. I made a new nest and herded the babies inside. The one around the corner was still hiding in the cold rocks. I pried her out and snuggled her in my arms before I let her go with the others. Now mommy is hanging out in the new nest. Maybe she'll move them to a better spot. At least they won't freeze when we get cool weather tonight. I draped some blankets over the tub to hold their body heat in. My husband reminded me: Most babies live in trees with only leaves in a nest and their own fur to keep them warm.
A week later I walked across the cold deck with my bare feet and knew those babies couldn't still be in that box. It was too cold! I opened it. Except for a few sunflower seed shells, it was empty. I'm hoping I bought mommy just enough time to solve the problem.
I put my oven mitt on and lifted the first one out. A dish towel over him kept him warm and calm. I petted him and offered to let him go on the roof. He wasn't interested. Still shivering he stayed put and waited for me to come up with a better solution. I let him go behind the big flower pots on the front porch.
The second one was big and just as submissive. I put them together. That's when I discovered the other two. That meant all four santas made it down the chimney! I think the nest collapsed from the weight of them.
I couldn't get a hold of the third one with the oven mitt on. She was wiley. Once she saw that the oven mitt elevator had made it past the metal facing she jumped up my arm and ran across my shoulders. Bolting under the chairs and around the corner, I caught her easily barehanded, but apparently it wasn't a great hold because she didn't wait for me to put her with the others. She scampered across the deck and disappeared underneath. That's storage area. It was no big deal to move some stuff we had piled under there and pick her up again. She let me. But once again, as soon as she was free she over reacted, ran right past the others, and made like a rock in the fireplace with only her feet and tail exposed. I left her there for the time being.
The fourth one was a little upset and growled at me when I wouldn't let him go as I walked out the door. I checked my own energy. Yeah, I was still a little excited from the last encounter. I thought about the dog whisperer on the National Geographic channel, changed the emotion I was projecting, and got a good result. The last one stayed with the others. Their faces were stacked three high watching me from behind the pots while I started on stage two of my new experiment.
I procured an old flannel sheet, a plastic tub with a lid and a roll of duct tape. I made a new nest and herded the babies inside. The one around the corner was still hiding in the cold rocks. I pried her out and snuggled her in my arms before I let her go with the others. Now mommy is hanging out in the new nest. Maybe she'll move them to a better spot. At least they won't freeze when we get cool weather tonight. I draped some blankets over the tub to hold their body heat in. My husband reminded me: Most babies live in trees with only leaves in a nest and their own fur to keep them warm.
A week later I walked across the cold deck with my bare feet and knew those babies couldn't still be in that box. It was too cold! I opened it. Except for a few sunflower seed shells, it was empty. I'm hoping I bought mommy just enough time to solve the problem.
Access: Public
That IS quite a story!! An exciting squirrel saga, indeed. Sounds like you guys are having fun at your house. (I understand your philosophical challenges too…those are hard ones to figure through…) I am smiling at your animal stories.
Yeah, little flying green mice are okay in my house. Baby mice with big fluffy tails that plant oak trees are okay. But the real thing? Those cheese eating vermin–Not! (Not, right?) Inviting a mouse to eat the crickets in your basement is like opening the aviary door for the snake that coming behind it. i did that until a rat showed volunteering to eat the snakes one morning.
I'd never met a rat before, but I'd seen him around and was talking about him the right before I went downstairs to feed the outside birds. Voila! He was having breakfast inside the galvanized can where I store sunflower seeds. He was rabbit sized. I kept telling myself some people keep them as pets as I filled a plastic pitcher with him, poured him out onto the ground, walked into the house, and dismantled the whole food chain I had going on. No rats allowed!
I plugged in some of those noise makers that keep all but the hungriest mice away. Now I catch the crickets myself and feed them to my singing frogs!