A friend of S. called, frantic and uncertain of what to do. She had been out walking and found a baby squirrel that had been knocked out or fallen from its nest. She picked it up, took it home, put it in a blanket, and called S. Of course.

We seem to be the foster home family for lost, stray, misplaced or transitioning animals of every sort. We’ve had cats, dogs, snakes, lizards, ferrets, chinchillas, mice, gerbils, fish, a chicken… yeah, a chicken. S. is known to be a taker-in of all things exotic, so when people come across helpless baby squirrels… they know who to call.

We figure the critter to be about two weeks, almost bald and not yet opening his eyes. S. found a wealth of resource info on taking care of baby squirrels (you believe that? One web site went on for forty pages!) and is administering the necessary infant care. Apparently once they have grown a bit they can be returned to the wild (if the backyards of Atlanta can be termed wild) and should go on about his squirrely business. He does have a pretty serious laceration on one side, but we have been cleaning it with neosporin and raw honey and it looks to be healing nicely. We are trying to be very conscious and alert during this very vunerable period, watching the little thing for any sign of illness or distress. Right now he just sleeps a lot.

That friend of S. owes us. Oooh, she owes us big time.