The Squirrels’ Tale

In early May of this year, I was taking out my garbage cans to the front curb the day before they are picked up, just like my neighbors do in the late afternoon with their garbage cans. When I turned to head back into the house, I heard a faint chirping sound and looked up and noticed this little guy clinging to the trunk of my tall palm tree. (right)

He was clinging to the tree at about seven feet off the ground and stared at me intently. He didn’t look sick or in distress (though I'm not a certified squirrel whisperer), and I wondered where his mom might be. After some time had passed, I assumed that perhaps a predator like an owl or a hawk had snatched his mom and flown away. The other predatory birds that keep an eye on the critters in our neighborhood are turkey vultures. A few years back, a turkey vulture snatched a rabbit that had been frequenting my backyard, then flew over the house with it and set it down in the middle of the street in front of my house, and within seconds had torn it apart…while momma and baby turkey vulture watched from a nearby tree across the street. So, it’s certainly possible that the little squirrel’s mom had been met with a similar fate.

As I stood talking to this little guy, it was starting to get late, and I had to check on my son and think about turning in for the night. I phoned my local Animal Control office and was instructed by the woman answering to leave the squirrel alone and that he would find a way to survive. Well, while I wasn’t convinced that she was correct, I also wasn't really inclined to handle the little squirrel or bring it in the house, and thought that if a bird had spotted him, he would likely burrow further into the palm tree’s bark for protection…at least I hoped he would.

The next morning, I went out to check on the squirrel to see if he was still there. To my surprise (and, okay, my relief), he was and still fixing his gaze on me with his eyes. I went back into the house to get a small cup of water to see if he was thirsty and possibly dehydrated. As I stood trying to give him a drink and chatting with him, my neighbor, a woman (let’s call her Ms. J) who lives a few doors up drove by, parked her car in her driveway, and then walked down toward my home.

“Is that a baby squirrel?” she called out.

I answered in the affirmative and said that he hadn’t moved or skittered away and had spent the night in the tree, and that he didn't seem to be afraid of me.

“I think his mom was maybe snatched by an owl or hawk,” I said.

“He looks a bit tired and thirsty,” she said.

As she said this, two other neighbors, a married couple (let’s call them Mr. and Mrs. K) who were old friends of mine, pulled up in their car on their way home.

“What’s going on?”

I pointed to the little squirrel clinging to the tree. They parked their car in front of my house and looked at the squirrel, which still was not frightened of four large humans staring right back at it. Mr. K pulled out his iPhone and looked up information on how to care for abandoned squirrels that appeared to be thirsty or dehydrated. Yes, there are websites with this information. A couple of sites recommended trying to administer Pedialyte.

“I have Pedialyte!” exclaimed Ms. J. “I just had an operation and was prescribed Pedialyte. I still have some left.”

“You might want to bring a syringe if you have one to put it in the squirrel’s mouth,” Mr. K suggested—she had noticed that the squirrel had some difficulty in sipping from the cup that I had brought out.

“I’ve got syringes, too,” said Ms. J. “I’ll be right back”

Within minutes she had returned. Mr. K gently pulled the little squirrel off the tree. The little guy did not resist. Ms. J sat on the lawn next to the tree and filled a syringe with Pedialyte and Mr. K handed her the little patient. The squirrel quickly began to drink from the syringe.

After a few minutes we all heard a chirping sound and looked up toward the top of the palm some 35 to 40 feet up. Suddenly another baby squirrel fell from the top of the tree down to the grass - a brave little jumper without a parachute. He or she obviously saw his or her sibling getting water and wanted in on the action. So, now our neighborhood impromptu squirrel triage unit was caring for two baby squirrels.

About ten minutes passed when yet another squirrel dropped from the palm that also didn’t want to be left behind. It was at this point that I recontacted Animal Control to see if they would take in the three squirrels and care for them until they got larger and could be released back into the wild. They deployed a truck to check out this dire emergency situation.

When the man from Animal Control arrived, we—four very concerned adults of the Neighborhood Squirrel Triage Unit—wanted an assurance that the three little squirrels, whom we had christened Alvin, Simon, and Theodore not be fed to captured predatory birds or snakes. The animal control officer chuckled and gave us his word. Mr. K, a retired major in the Marines, squinted hard at the AC officer and then nodded slightly in a sign of trust.

It's September now, and the three little squirrels should be fully grown, and, if the AC man kept his word, frolicking somewhere in the region. Doubtful that they went to Los Angeles to start a singing group…but you never know.

Also doubtful that I would extend the same help for a cougar or coyote in distress. Just saying.