Larry the Squirrel
Automated disclaimer: This post was written more than 15 years ago and I may not have looked at it since.
Older posts may not align with who I am today and how I would think or write, and may have been written in reaction to a cultural context that no longer applies. Some of my high school or college posts are just embarrassing. However, I have left them public because I believe in keeping old web pages alive—and it's interesting to see how I've changed.
So, a funny thing happened on the grass. It was still alive, but a sibling close by was not. Since they were on a major footpath (and the nest above was about 50 or 60 feet up), I took the live one back to the dorm. While walking across the quad, a patch of grey against green caught my eye. Squatting down, I found a baby squirrel spread-eagled on the grass. It was still alive, but a sibling close by was not. Since they were on a major footpath (and the nest above was about 50 or 60 feet up), I took the live one back to my dorm. He was promptly named Larry.
I did a quick overview of his condition. He was furred, mobile, and could urinate on his own, but his eyes were still closed. There was a little blood when he sneezed, but only a small amount -- likely a bloody nose, not from internal bleeding. I put him in an old t-shirt in a shoe box and set that on my laptop (a moderately warm environment), then called
I did a quick overview of his condition. He was promptly named Larry.
Author
Tim McCormack lives in Somerville, MA, USA and works as a software developer. (Updated 2019.)
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