By Debra Divine
Daughter: Just off the porch in the dirt. It must have fallen from a live oak tree near the house. We scooped it into Maggie’s empty dog bowl and brought it inside lining a shoebox with shredded newspaper. I fed him later. We’re not sure if the Tangipahoa River crested.
Me: What would you feed an orphaned baby squirrel?
Daughter: He was cold when I picked him up. I really didn’t want to pick him up right away. I had rice milk and almond milk in the house. I tried the rice milk first, with the almond milk perhaps a better choice. Squirrels like nuts. I fed him with a tincture dropper reluctant at first. In my hands he was first cold and began to warm up with feeding. Not taking much at all. I covered him with a warm rag for warmth.
Me: Are there animal shelters around?
April: I suppose they are closed. One time I wanted to take a wild bird to one and they weren’t accepting. I really have to go.
The next day, Monday, my daughter and I spoke again.
Daughter: I’m just texting friends mainly because of the battery. Googled search how to take care of baby squirrels and texted my friend who is a vet. She said that I needed to rub the baby squirrel’s belly and/or genitals to “make him go.” That seemed to work.
Me: How are you doing?
Daughter: I’m using flashlights and candles. I want this squirrel to go back to nature as soon as possible.
Me: It was reported, it may be 30 days for power to be restored and 30 years to talk about Hurricane Ida and its effect.
Daughter: I’m not watching the news. I’m glad I experienced a hurricane. Don’t want to go through another one however.
The following day…
Daughter: Today on Tuesday, FEMLA has come by to clear the roads. Hammond is now opened for grocery shopping and a neighbor of mine is heading into town and asking if we need anything. The answer is no. Sandy from the French Quarter had taken a bus to Shreveport last Saturday and I need to check on her.
Me: Can you start the car?
Daughter: The car flooded 4 inches into the floor board and the tailpipe is under water. Have to wait for things to dry out a bit. There’s a lot of debris and things to put away. Inside our home, chairs have been stacked and now need sorting. The outside wind chimes remain down because the squirrel screams with the onslaught of noise. Everything is coming along with all of us.
Wednesday rolls around, 3 days post the hurricane. I will call the orphaned baby squirrel “Monchhichi” after my oldest son’s stuffed monkey from the 1980’s. It is fitting with both monkey and squirrel displacing a cute face and long tail.
Me: How are you doing and Monchhichi? I’ve named your squirrel after your brother’s favorite toy when he was little.
Daughter: I went to work today. The car finally started. Those that could showed. The squirrel likes warm material so I lined his shoe box with it and took away the wash rag. Really likes goat milk. I had some around the house. Drinks a lot and urinates and I think poops too on my arm after I feed him and stimulate him. Doing real good. Likes to be held a lot. Work was good.
I would learn Thursday that Monchhichi liked goat milk so much he had 5 feedings a day on demand, and was thriving well. His temperature was more stable and he went outside in my daughter’s loving hands. Though there may be 30 days for power to be restored and plenty of debris, all was alive and thriving. April’s warm hands and warm heart had saved this little squirrel. It would be determined when Monchhichi would return to his oak tree. First his ears would have to pop and his eyes open.
My daughter had become a momma to a screaming helpless orphaned baby squirrel, and “momma and child” were coping under the most unusual of circumstance. And this was all we could wish for, had prayed for, cried for. Blessings.
