Batcat and the Seven Squirrels (2 page)

CHAPTER THREE

The little squirrel lapped up water from the pan.

“He was really thirsty,” Nathan said.

“There’s no telling how long it’s been since he had anything to drink,” his father said. “I’m just glad he’s been weaned.”

Nathan gave him a confused look.

“Squirrels are mammals, and all mammals nurse from their mother.
Because he’s been weaned, we know he’s older, and that’s good.”

“It is?” Nathan asked.

“Older means he has a better chance of surviving,” his mother explained.

Nathan hadn’t even thought that could be a problem. Now he felt worried. “Should we give him milk then?”

“Cow’s milk is probably very different from squirrel milk. If he’s old enough to drink, water is probably the best thing.”

“He must be hungry too. What exactly do squirrels eat?” Nathan asked. “You know, besides peanuts.”

His mother had opened up the laptop to google squirrels.

“It does say nuts, seeds, fruits, pinecones, fungi and green vegetables,” she said.

“And French fries,” Nathan added.

“No, there’s nothing here about French fries,” she said.

“I guess he doesn’t know that,” Nathan said.

The squirrel had grabbed a fry off Nathan’s plate and was nibbling away at it.

“He’s as hungry as he was thirsty,” Nathan said.

“He probably hasn’t eaten for a while, but still, let’s be good parents and give him something a little more squirrelly,” his father said.

He had a couple of peanuts that he placed upon the table. The squirrel dropped the fry and picked up one of the peanuts.

“Way to go, Mr. Munch,” Nathan said.

“Mr. Munch?” his father said.

“I thought he needed a name. It could be just Munch, or Munchie.”

“But only his closest friends should get to call him Munchie,” his father said.

“I think we’re his only friends,” Nathan said. Then he thought of something. “When squirrels have babies, do they just have one?”

“I’m not sure,” his father said.

“I’m looking it up,” his mother said.

Once again she started googling squirrel information.

“It says that there are generally three to five in a litter,” she said.

“So there might be two to four more babies out there, alone, hungry and thirsty,” Nathan said.

“There could be,” his mother agreed.

“Unless they come to our door, I’m not sure there’s much we can do about it,” his father said.

“There has to be something,” Nathan said.

“Short of climbing up every tree to look for nests, I’m not sure what else we can do,” his father said.

“We have a ladder, right?” Nathan asked.

“Yes, we have a ladder, but…” His father stopped himself midsentence. He knew the answer he was going to give wasn’t the right answer. “I’ll get the ladder.”

There were five big trees and several little trees surrounding the yard. While any of those big trees could hold a nest, it made sense to search the one closest to the porch first. Besides, Nathan’s mother was sure she’d seen the mother squirrel in that tree more than the others.

Nathan’s father stood at the bottom of the ladder, holding it secure while his
mother climbed up. She was much more comfortable being high up than he was. She was the one who always put up the Christmas lights and cleaned out the eaves troughs.

She climbed higher and higher, until she almost disappeared into the canopy of leaves and branches.

Nathan, with Munchie sitting on his shoulder, stood just off to the side. Both of them were looking up at his mother.

“Do you see anything?” Nathan yelled.

“I can see that our roof is going to need to be replaced before too long,” she called down.

“You know what I mean!” he said.

“Nothing yet…wait.”

As they watched from the ground, she climbed off the ladder and onto
a large branch shooting off from the trunk.

“Should you be doing that?” Nathan’s father asked.

“I’m fine. Don’t worry. The branch is solid, and I’m holding on. Besides, it’s the only way I can get to the nest.”

“There’s a nest! You found the nest!” Nathan yelled.

“She found
a
nest,” his father said. “It doesn’t mean it belongs to Munchie and his family or that it’s even being—”

Nathan’s mother made a strange noise. It was a combination of surprise and happiness. Before they could even ask what had happened, she began to laugh.

“Are you all right?” Nathan’s father called as he peered up at her.

“I’m fine,” she said. “Matter of fact, we’re
all
fine.”

CHAPTER FOUR

In the end, there were six more baby squirrels. The first four had come out of the nest by themselves and had clung to Nathan’s mother’s shirt. With the last two, she had gently reached into the nest with her gloved hands and placed them in the pockets of her shirt. Those squirrels were the smallest two.

Now they were all scampering around on the kitchen floor. Seven little
patches of grayish red fur and shiny eyes. They kept returning to the pan of water to drink and to nibble from the bowl that was filled with nuts, seeds, berries and cut-up veggies. It was a combination of food from Nathan’s house and the bird feed set out for neighborhood birds. They all knew that squirrels seemed to like whatever was in bird feeders.

“They seem okay, right?” Nathan asked.

“They seem really good. I’m just not sure what we do now,” his mother said.

“We keep them,” Nathan said. “You and Dad promised I could have a pet and—”

“A pet is a dog or a cat. One dog or one cat, not seven dogs or seven cats. Squirrels are wild animals and need to be in the wild.”

She could see how worried and upset Nathan looked. She placed an arm around his shoulder. “We can’t
keep
them, but we are going to try to
raise
them.”

“Really?”

“Really, but it’s not going to be easy, and it’s going to take a lot of time and a lot of work,” she said. “Are you prepared to work hard?”

“I’ll work as hard as I can. I promise.”

“And with school ending and summer vacation starting for both of us, we’ll have time to devote to them,” she said.

Nathan’s father walked into the room. He was carrying a wooden box. He’d been in the basement, and they had heard him working with power tools, so they knew he was building something.

“Ta-da!” he said as he placed the box on the table. “Here it is.”

“What exactly is it?” Nathan’s mother asked.

“It’s a squirrel hotel. This is the entrance,” he said, spinning it around to show them a small opening.

“And this is the inside.” He undid a little latch and the whole top of the box swung open on hinges. The inside was lined with blankets and towels.

“It looks nice and soft,” Nathan said. “Do you think they’ll like it?”

“There’s only one way to find out.”

His father closed the lid and then carefully placed the box on the floor among the baby squirrels. At first they didn’t seem to notice. Then one of them started sniffing it, and a second got up on his back paws to try to look over it. A third, his cheeks full of seeds, jumped up on top and started eating.

“You’re supposed to go inside,” Nathan explained to them.

Then, almost like he understood, Munchie peeked inside and then disappeared into the box.

“I think this just might work,” his father said.

The squirrel hotel sat in the corner of Nathan’s room. All seven squirrels were nestled within. Nathan opened the lid slightly so he and his parents could look inside. The squirrels were all cuddled together in one big ball of fur and tails, surrounded by a pink towel.

“So cute,” his mother whispered.

“We better let them sleep,” his father said, and Nathan lowered the lid and softly closed it.

“Now that we have seven babies asleep, we have to get the eighth to bed,” his father said.

“I’m not a baby,” Nathan protested. “I’m almost eight.”

“And a very grown-up eight,” his father said. “Because now you’re like a parent to seven babies.”

His father picked up Nathan and carried him to bed. His mother tucked him in. This started their bedtime routine of his parents lying beside him and all three of them reading together. They’d hardly started the story when Nathan’s eyelids got heavy, and it looked like he was asleep.

Quietly Nathan’s parents got off the bed and turned out the big light, leaving the room with a little glow from the night-light in the corner. As they started to pull the door closed, Nathan called out.

“What will happen with the squirrels tomorrow?” he asked.

“They’ll be fine,” his mother said.

“Will they?” he asked.

“We’ll do the best we can,” his father said. “Day by day, we’ll do the best we can for them.”