Of laziness and baby animals

I know, I've been lax about updating, and I have no excuse, because I'm here, at home, assing around. On the plus side, I've made a few batches of chicken stock, have made my husband's lunch every morning (before crawling back to bed for another hour), and even baked oatmeal chocolate chip cookies (Mark Bittman lied - you can use the quick oats in his recipe, and the world will continue to turn on its axis).

Let me tell you what I did a couple weeks ago:

Rescued a baby squirrel. Cute, huh? I was walking back home from a thrilling trip to the mailbox when I happened upon this wee fellow (it was a boy, I checked) lying in the middle of the sidewalk. After a moment's hesitation (if I left him there and went to get an oven mitt so I didn't get scratched, would he be gone upon my return?) I scooped him up and brought him home. He just laid in my hands, eyes open, but unmoving. The little guy was pretty sluggish. He needed help.

As I walked up to my house, my neighbor's kid trilled out, "Excuse me! I think you have my squirrel!" Oy.

"Your squirrel?" I asked.

After further questioning, she revealed that she had found the squirrel a few blocks away, and was planning to keep it. As a pet. He was on the sidewalk because she had been carrying him in a flowerpot and then dropped him without realizing it. Oh, no no no no no no.

I told her that I was going to take him to an animal refuge where they could care for a wild baby squirrel properly. He wasn't meant to live in a cage indoors. She wasn't happy about that. "Could I keep him in a cage, outside?" I told her no, it was illegal. I haven't been able to find the section of the code of the Pennsylvania Fish & Game Commission that says that specifically, but it's a safe bet. Plus, I was willing to bet that her mom wouldn't be too desirous of a squirrel as a pet, anyway. I left her pondering the legality of squirrel ownership and took the baby inside.

After getting Baby Squirrel wrapped in a hand towel (he had claws, but they weren't very sharp yet, still, better safe than sorry), I spent a few minutes on the interwebs and tracked down a wildlife refuge. The cats, amazingly, were curious, but didn't act like they were hungry for a squirrel sandwich. I guess their sense of smell isn't so acute. I was able to drive him right over and they took him off my hands (I'd been entertaining the thought of keeping him myself, even though it would be wrong. He was awfully cute) and popped him into an incubator so he would be warm.

Booby was gutted that a baby squirrel had been in the house and already gone before he had a chance to see it, but the pictures helped soothe him.