You know, I can't even recall Monday, or Tuesday really, Wednesday has a vague memory of yet another useless allergist appointment and I am quite sure we did school all week. Thursday though, Thursday I remember! My sister and I have been walking at 6am each day. Our scales are liars but we figured if the pants don't fit....
Yesterday may have been a bad idea, we were twinsicles by the time we got back! And the dog, who we let run for a few minutes at the beach, had little teeny icicles on her fur! And that was at 21 degrees! It is 10 out right now, I am thinking a good Tae Bo video might be a better idea. Fleece pants can only take you so far.
Yesterday, we had just left for sign language class when we spied a squirrel in the road in a Buddhist meditation position. Knowing that, as a general rule, squirrels are not Buddhist, I assumed, correctly, he had been hit by a car. Now, you may know, in a previous life, that both Mike and I were once wildlife rehabilitators well versed in both rescue and treatment of all things wild that live on the Cape. PLEASE keep in mind that does not mean I still WANT to! I also wish the girls had never been regaled with stories of the glory days because they now think I will help anything! Squirrels, meditating or not, are bloodthirsty dangerous little wretches with sharp claws and ever growing teeth and we used to handle them with huge, thick welding gloves. So I pull over as the girls keep a running commentary and inventory the car for anything useful. Right. I have a zip up sweatshirt and a canvas bookbag full of books. I hope he is meditating really deeply. His eye is bleeding and swollen shut, so he has a blind side, helpful for rescue, really bad for the disposition. (his, not mine) I was able to throw the shirt over him which sent him into a terrified frenzy. Great, now, with NO welding gloves, in fact, no protection whatsoever, I have to pick it up in the shirt. So I manage that, tell Ro to dump out the book bag and deposit the animal into the very thick bookbag and roll the top down. Then we turn around and go home, I run in and grab a carrier to put the squirrel into. Now I have to risk life and limb again getting it out of the book bag (still, thank God wrapped in the shirt) and into the carrier. He almost got loose but I got him in the carrier, stuck it on a heating pad in the basement with a blanket over it and we arrived at sign language class in good order.
Now I will share with you that you really want one of two outcomes. One, it is really not injured, just was deeply in meditation and you can go home and let it out and wave goodbye. Two, it dies peacefully and we have a heartfelt funeral. What you do NOT want is what happened. It needs longer term help. I have nothing left from the old days, most importantly, no ketamine to knock it out and examine it. My old clinic, that used to not only be open 24/7 when I ran it but had rescue and transport volunteers, informs me on the phone, that is is open 9-5. There is an option to hit "208" if you have an animal in distress. So I hit "208". It again informs me it is open 9-5. Now I am in distress!
So, yesterday I remember and it is likely I will remember todays trip to the rehab clinic that took over when I left and I have horrid, bitter and unreasonable anger towards. Yes, still. Sue me. Stupid Squirrel.
