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On the wild side
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By Wendy Mitchell
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The Olympics may have been winding to a close in Beijing, but our critter 'lympics had just begun last Saturday.
If it wasn’t nutty enough at the farm, we have acquired some athletic wildlife.
On Saturday, Rooster went to set up a little camp-out with the grandkids at the farm.
That can be a three-ring circus in itself, but there was more.
Before I left home with the essentials, s’more fixings and a vat of baked beans, Rooster had called with a problem.
“There are flying squirrels in the shelter house,” he said.
“What are you smoking?” I replied and referred to any possible moose sightings to go with the squirrel.
We have had, turkey, deer, owls, spiders, snakes and a pair of errant coon dogs, but no flying rodents before.
They are babies and their nest fell out of the folding chair, he said.
We store spare chairs in the rafters so that could have been a distance for babies the size of chicken eggs.
“They are naked and the mother took off into the rafters; she is (upset),” he said.
I suggested he put them into a flower pot, but he didn’t have one, he said.
“I will bring one,” I said. “Keep them in the shade.”
Isn't that what you do with naked babies?
When I arrived Rooster was guarding the nest and the three grandkids paced in excitement.
“We got squirrels,” 3-year-old JaeLyn said as I got out of the car.
I handed the toddler the flower pot and told her to give it to Papaw, as I rummaged through the car for some sort of protective gloves.
With an oven mitt on one hand and a heavy work glove on the other Rooster gingerly placed the four tiny flying squirrels and their mossy nest into the flower pot. With a wary eye on the area he last saw the mother hiding, Rooster tucked the flower pot squirrel condo into a corner of the rafters of the shelter.
I just know he was envisioning that classic scene in the National Lampoon vacation movie where the bat attaches itself to John Candy’s face.
And I didn’t have a tennis racquet.
It took jiggling the remaining folding chair stored in the rafters to get mama squirrel to come out. She scurried to an upright rafter then froze in fear.
I would freeze too if something 200 times my size was goosing me with a long stick.
We decided to give the frightened mother some space, and within a minute or two she crept to the squirrel condo and cuddled with her pups (I looked that up, I thought they were kits, but apparently flying squirrels have pups.)
For the rest of the day she stayed quiet in her new home.
But the excitement was not over.
After dark, they are nocturnal and you should see how big her eyes are, she ventured out onto the rafters only to find she had an audience of more adult visitors.
Floof, off she glided silently into the dark and nearby woods on a grocery glide. About 15 minutes later, thump, she glided to the post nearest her new home and scrambled into the nest.
She repeated this for most of the night, with only one incident.
Apparently the canopy the human intruders erected to sleep under was in her flight path.
Just as I was falling asleep in our tent I heard my step-daughter scream, “Oh my god, there it goes.”
The little mama had buzzed the audience like Bette Midler in a 1980s stage show.
“Watch out; she likes nuts,” I hollered.
Let's see a 16/13-year-old Chinese gymnast do that....
I give her a gold medal just for putting up with us. |
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