One evening while washing the water bowl for my two pet chickens I heard a pitiful cry for help. It sounded like a small animal nearby. Quickly turning around, there was my cat, Honey Girl with a tiny squirrel in her mouth.
Kneeling down to be closer to her level, I began to beg and plead with her to put it down. She backed away. Every time I walked toward her, she backed up. Not running, mind you, just retreating from my advances. I tap danced around her for five minutes or so before losing my temper. The baby was alive and still screaming, but one clamp of Honey's jaw and it would be gone.
I let her know I was angry. In my strongest voice, I ordered her to put it down. No luck. Getting down on my knees, I begged in my softest voice. She still backed away. Looking around frantically for something or someone for advice, I noticed our basement door was open. Spreading my arms wide, I chased her inside, shut the door and had her trapped!
When Honey Girl knew there was no escape route and her care giver was irate, she laid the baby at my feet. I snatched it up, wrapped it in a towel and placed it in a pet carrier that was handy. Next, I shooed Honey Girl out and dashed up the stairs, pet carrier in hand, in time to salvage our evening meal that had been left on the stove for what I thought was a ten minute chore.
While trying to get the food served, I heard Honey at the door. After several loud meows, I opened the door to Honey standing over yet ANOTHER baby squirrel. She looked so pleased with herself, tail swishing, walking back and forth, twining around my legs and talking the whole time.
I knew immediately what she was thinking. If I wanted the other squirrel so badly, she would bring me another to make a meal! What else would one do with squirrels except eat them?
I didn't know if I should laugh or cry, so I gave Honey Girl a pat on the head, scooped up the baby and thanked her for not killing it. A little loving care kept the babies alive through the night.
The next day both babies had recovered from the "cat trauma" and were taken to a "rescue" lady who raised them and released them in our park. She called to let me know the day of release. My husband and I met her and watched as the babies cautiously peeked out of the cage and then scampered to the closest tree. Five minutes later, they were right at home with the other squirrels. We stayed a while and watched them at play before going home with a great feeling of satisfaction.
My husband and I visited the park a few weeks later to sit on a bench and feed the ducks and squirrels. I wondered which two had the encounter with our Honey Girl. We could no longer tell the difference. Hopefully they were among those we fed. At this writing, Honey hasn't brought me any more "presents", thank heavens.
Clara Wersterfer US
A morning kiss, a discreet touch of his nose landing somewhere on the middle of my face.
Because his long white whiskers tickled, I began every day laughing.
Janet F Faure