The wee ones were growing, and they were strong and rambunctious. They were dubbed “Lenny an Squiggy”, named after the two nutty (pun well intended) characters on the tv show, “Laverne and Shirley”. It wasn’t our intention to keep them as pets, so we had them outside as much as possible, showing them their natural habitat, letting them climb tree’s starting with five footers and graduating them to the bigger ones. My dad had a wooden shack not too far up a large tree already in place for them to live if they so chose. All this preparation was for 1. They are wild animals, and 2. Holding true to the phrase, “If you love something, set it free……”. You know the one!

   Good times! In no time they were high up in the trees doing what squirrels do. Lenny was way up there when he went out on a limb a little too far and fell to the ground to what should’ve been his death. But he looked like a super ball as he hit the  soft earth and sprang up, grabbed the tree and scurried right back on up. Applause please!   Another time that little Lenny should’ve been hurt was when he was roaming through our lawn and my dog pounced on him with her front paws just as she would do to a tennis ball when she wanted to play. I’m not sure, but I think our cat “Tinky” might have given him a few of her lives as a birthday gift.

   Since then as an adult, I have moved around and have been blessed with squirrels everywhere I went. My fascination as a little boy, and the intimacy of the experience of raising squirrels had turned into love and respect for them. I’m not, by any stretch, a squirrel whisperer, however, I think they sense my gentle connection with them and have been able to this day, gain enough trust anywhere I’m calling home at the time, to have the honor of a squirrel to sit on my lap while enjoying a tasty cracker from a big boy’s fingers.