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The Squirrel
Contributed by
Brad_Paxton
on
Sunday, 19th September 2010 @ 01:19:59 AM in AEST
Topic:
StoryPoetry
|
I was at work
Leia called me from home
Distressed
It was about a baby squirrel
No more than 5 days old
Who had been brought to our door step
By the always gracious Sammy
Instead of sinking his teeth in the whole way
He decided to draw the whole thing out
As cats are wont to do
And left it there
On the doorstep
For all to see
Leia thought it dead
So she waited for me to come home and
Deal with the situation
When I arrived
I thought the job would be simple enough
I requested a shoebox
And thought of my trumpet
Collecting dust in the closet
Waiting to be blown to the tune of TAPS
But probably too funny I guess
But something changed
The little devil
Still had some fight left
Got some gloves
And picked it up
The first time I picked up a living thing
That had no weight to it at all
Placed it in the shoebox
Once intended for death
Now intended for life
Next to a hot water bottle
That it would come to think
Was its mother
It had to be thirsty
The internet said to try Pedialyte
So I went to the store and came back again
And waited for it to yawn
And eye-dropped some into its mouth
I picked it up
Looked for marks
3 or 4 bites
Blood dripping from under its arm
Where Sammy’s teeth had been
Leia became distraught
Left the room
It was just me and him
Blind
Helpless
Alone
Crying for his mother
For anyone
And I then felt responsible
For his life
And a weight and darkness I’ve felt before
Started to close in again
But now I was older
Maybe a bit smarter this time
Quicker of action
Knowing time was against us
And his greatest threat
I stayed with him the whole night
Waited for the yawns again
To eye-drop the fluids
To keep him going
For just a while longer
As his tiny little claws that looked like flecks of dirt
Straddled the water bottle
With all of his might
Hoping it was mom
I started making calls at 7 am
Hoping someone could help him
Time passed
And passed some more
Finally, a call
The woman told me where to bring him
We had to wait some more
Me and him
I told him to hold on
Hoping he understood English
Or at least the tone of my voice
The intention
That I was on his side
I took him to the car
Kept the sunlight off him
Couldn’t take my eyes off him
Which made driving rather difficult
He was twitching
No
Convulsing
I imagined his last breath would be as I arrived at the place
But he was still fighting
Desperately holding on
The gate was locked
So I waited some more
And he struggled some more
And finally they came
Maybe not knowing how serious it all was
And opened the goddamn gate
We road down together on a rocky dirt path
Me and Pinky
Finally arrived
The girl picked him up out of the shoebox
His arms and legs flailing about
Said he was cold and thirsty
They took him inside and warmed him up
While I waited outside
She came out and said that they were fighters
And that he had a good chance
I asked if they could keep me updated
They said they couldn’t
That the rehabilitator would see 20 more just like Pinky
If I had known that would be the last time I’d see him
I would’ve said goodbye
Hoping he understood English
Or at least the tone of my voice
The intention
That I was on his side
So I left the place
Road down alone on the rocky dirt path
And cried
Copyright ©
Brad_Paxton
... [
2010-09-19 01:19:59]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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