I finally gave up. |
After fifteen minutes, I finally gave up. Class called. Hours later, after finishing half of a rather horrific paper regarding duality, I walked up the pathway, bouncing a tennis ball nervously. To my surprise, as I rounded the corner to Old Main, there he was. My squirrel from before. He hadn't moved.
I walked up to him. He walked away. Now though, he didn't have the energy to run, or climb the stairs. I threw my jacket over him. Terribly surprised, I picked up the little guy.
Equally shocked at the turn of events. |
Squirrel slept in my coat the entire ride home. He slept in a box in my closet all night. He tried to escape in the morning. Finally, he settled into life on the sun porch. He had a water fall and a box and a towel and a t-shirt. Still though, he wouldn't eat. He was a sick puppy, with a face full of blood and snot.
Day One, or was it Two, ended with my father hand feeding the squirrel walnuts, which the latter quickly tried to bury into the bricks and towel for later.
Friday morning, squirrel became Sven the Pocket Squirrel, as he gleefully slept in my pocket.
The little guy loved it. |
At first, he ran right past the open glass door, darting behind a box and onto the dog bed. He missed it again round two, but finally exited, slowly at first, then with building excitement. He ran to the ferns. He jumped up the steps to the pool. Smelled a bush, stood on his back legs to look around, before finally beginning to dig up the strawberry patch.
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