Chico and the Man

Chico dropped into our lives on Mother's Day 2011.  Mollie and I were drinking sweet tea on the sun porch, enjoying the view of the neighbors manicured lawn when we saw a falling mammal of some sort and then heard a dreaded thud.  I knew the animal had to be dead and decided to break the news to our dear neighbors as they were coming in from church.  "Hey John, something fell out of your tree, and it's laying on your lawn - maybe it's a squirrel?"  


We all came together to check out the little brown fur ball, and surprisingly, he started to wobble around.  More surprisingly, he went straight to John and crawled up on his boot.  It was a baby squirrel and his nest was located at the very top of one of the tallest trees in all of B'ville.  How the little guy was even alive after a fall like that had us all thinking it was a Mother's Day Miracle.  And it was obvious he thought that John was his new mama.  This left our neighbor in an interesting dilemma as he explained how he had witnessed a squirrel rip up his patio furniture cushions in order to make the very nest from which Chico fell.  To "thin the herd" or to save Chico, that is the question.  Along with many, many, more questions: 


Aren't squirrels naturally afraid of humans?  Will his mama come get him if we leave him alone?  Could he have brain damage?  Do you smell something?  At our house, when we have a situation full of perplexing questions, we girls will get on-line, or begin long conversations about what we think we remembered from Discovery Channel.  However, The Man goes to his garage.  When he emerged, he had on his leather gloves.  He picked Chico up and decided that he would put him back on his tree to see if he could climb up to his nest and advised that we should all leave and give Chico a chance to call out for his mama. 


The day continued with everyone, but mainly Mollie, watching and waiting and hoping little Chico will somehow be saved.  He climbed about half way up at one point, but the next thing we knew he was curled up right under the tree, trying to take a nap.  Mollie was obsessed with him and her entire day was spent trying to feed him milk (a big no-no, we found out later), and petting him with a stick, and worrying over him.  


As the day was coming to a close, we felt sorry for Chico.  He would not make it through the night with all the hawks and raccoons around here.  What to do?  The Man decided it was only decent to put him in our empty rabbit cage for the night, and maybe by morning he would "get his feet under him."  


By morning, Chico was declining and by the time we got home from school, Chico had passed.  Mollie took it harder than expected, but planning a funeral for him seemed to slowly shake her out of her funk.  Some tears were shed over who gets the honor to do which part.  Just like any funeral - emotions ran high.  MC insisted on being the one to stick him in the hole, right after her sister spent a good half hour digging it. But in the end, it was all worth it.  Chico has a nice brick tombstone and is buried under the trampoline next to a frog that we used to know.


RIP Chico...