Thursday, June 2, 2011
My backyard animalia-mania continues, with the discovery this morning of an injured baby flying squirrel.
Beatrix Bunny is no longer nursing her babes.
I only saw her a few times since I filmed the video, and then last Sunday night, I pulled up to my house and saw her in the front yard, where she often hung out. She froze, heard my voice, relaxed, then hopped into the backyard via her usual route, which is along the south side of my house and through a break in the fence. Much to my dismay, she seemed to be limping or maybe injured in some other way. I tried to follow her but it was already dark out and she had disappeared. She must have weaned them, or might have been injured and is unable to nurse them any longer.
I'm terrified that she might have been hurt by one of the neighborhood cats. I love cats with all my heart, but I hate that people let their cats roam outdoors! Besides the horrific injuries and intentional cruelty I regularly bore witness to at the animal shelter, the kitties leave so much carnage behind in their wake. The many cats that roam our neighborhood are fat, sassy, and spend at least a portion of their time comfortably indoors and out of the elements when the weather turns nasty. This leaves them at a distinct advantage when it comes to killing baby wildlife, or adults who are temporarily disabled from bad storms, unexpected cold weather, heavy rains, or lack of food.
And these kitties may be well-fed, but they are nevertheless obsessed with killing every living thing around. I try my best to keep them out of my yard, but my little beloved residents seem to be falling prey to them left and right, with all the crappy weather we've been having, and with the babies that are out and about and just learning how to navigate this wild world.
At any rate, I haven't seen Mama Bunny in almost a week. I don't know how the babies fared without her but I've only seen one little guy out and about, and only a couple of times.
Bun Bun peeking around to see if the coast is clear, before he's off to forage.
I last saw him Monday night (four days ago), so I hope he's okay. The week before that, I was looking out my window at dusk and happened to spot an infamous fat tabby pouncing through my burning bush. Without even waiting to see what was happening, I threw open my back door and started shouting, "Get out of my yard!"
I was just in time to see the cat falter at my voice and veer sideways to dash out of my yard along the garage wall. Meanwhile, the baby bunny the cat had been chasing shot under the slight overhang my porch step provided and came to a standstill. Poor little thing was trembling all over and looked like it might pass out from terror. I was shaking with fury. I'm pretty sure that same cat has taken out a few of my beloved babies, as it plagued my yard last year at this time, too.
Darn humans! Why do they never consider the consequences of their actions??
In happier news, there is an old fat squirrel that's been hanging around my magnolia tree near the back door, looking for handouts. He's a cool old geezer. His young pals dined on some pita bread I'd put out for them and the birds...
...while my little old man and his half-an-ear (the right one) feasted on the gourmet Kay-Tee bird seed and nut mixture on a lower railing below.
He's old, so he prefers this easy access spot, and has still got enough fight left in him that he can scare away the youngsters by squirrel-screeching at them!
I know I mentioned the baby robins atop my gutter in the last post. I looked up at the nest the other day, while I was working on my newest addition, a climbing trellis, and was surprised to see just one baby peeking out, instead of the four that had been there for so long.
I guessed that three must have fledged that day, since I'd seen them the day before, and I was hoping they were successful. I also thought they might have just fallen out of the nest, as the rain and wind were pretty wicked the evening before.
Suddenly, I heard a little "Are you my mother?" baby robin's cheep-cheep, and looked down to see this little fella looking back at me, directly below the nest. He didn't seem distressed, but he watched me and Ayize with avid interest, and occasionally called out with little peeps and cheeps.
I saw the cats from across the street coming over to case out the joint, so Ayize and I appointed ourselves guardians of the baby and worked right beside him while I considered what to do. I could try to put him back in the nest, assuming he had fallen out of the nest because of the storm (usually the best thing to do), but I had no one to hold my ladder and would probably end up with a broken neck. I could put him in a box and drive him somewhere in search of help, but it seemed possible that he might actually have just fledged (since two others were also missing), in which case, I would be doing more harm than good.
The cats disappeared from view, and I hoped they'd taken the hint and hightailed it off my property. Mama robin eventually returned - finally! - but by then, Ayize and I had moved slightly farther away to work a bed alongside the trellis. I dashed back over, hoping to verify that Mama knew her little one was sitting on the ground, but Mrs. Robin did not appear distressed or worried, and - oh dear! but I hope for the best - the little guy had disappeared from view in the short while that we'd taken our eyes off him.
Good luck, little guy, with your cute voice and your silly comb-over a la Albert Einstein. We loved having you and your sibs here in our garden. Hope you're all safe and please come back next year!
Yet another victim of the springtime kitty massacre happening round these parts was the baby flying squirrel I discovered this morning. Actually, Weeman found him! He was out to potty this morning, and suddenly began barking up a frenzy. I dashed over to see what was going on, and he was hovering anxiously over this little guy near the corner of our garage.
He kept trying to gently pin this babe down with his paw and groom it (Weeman is very motherly LOL) because he was so concerned about the bite wounds on the underside of its tail, near its butt. He would get in a gentle lick or two and then suddenly, his "baby" would snarl and screech and try to nip him, and he would jump back, startled, then bark, before trying again.
I told him to back off and knelt down to see what on earth he was hovering over.
My first thought (it was sort of a break-dancing, enraged, gray ball at that point) was, What the hell is a baby chinchilla doing in my backyard?? It slowed down slightly then, into a backpedaling epileptic low-grade frenzy and I thought, Never mind, it's a baby sugar glider, and how did it escape from its home? And then it stopped moving altogether and lay there for a moment, perfectly still, and I saw the puncture wounds and realized it was a baby flying squirrel simultaneously.
All the fight had gone out of it and it was exhausted and weak. I thought it might be dying. Weeman nosed me neurotically, frantically, very concerned about his "baby".
I scooped it up and put it in a gardening bucket, then called my wonderful boss at Chicago Exotics, Sue Horton. Moments later, we were on our way to the clinic. Poor little guy.
Ayize was also concerned about the "baby fying skirtle" but was not allowed into the treatment room while the little guy was assessed. But he watched everything through the glass door, dispensing his two cents to anyone who would listen.
"The baby, he is hurt, the bad cat bited him, he need-a go to the hobsible and he need-a having doctor hepp him, he want his mommy, you need-a fix him, he need-a band-aid, and a piece-a tape..."
Just call him the vet-in-training.
For the next eight hours, Sue and her awesome team saw a million clients, took care of a ton of patients, and still made time to treat the little dude. They rehydrated him with fluids, gave him antibiotic injections, and syringe-fed him.
I headed over to the clinic in the early evening to pick him up and they had already been closed for over a half-hour, yet were still busting their butts in full swing. Clients were still in rooms, patients were being sent home, instructions had to be given, appointments made, phone calls still to be returned. Looong day. And yet, here was my little guy, looking a thousand times better from their kindness and expertise. Thank you, guys - you are my heros! And a special thank you to Lamor for being so sweet to Ayize - he was very excited to give you hugs and high fives (and all at the same time LOL)!
He was definitely perkier, but he was still terrified and hiding. He was only eating if he was hand-fed with a syringe, and he was apparently biting everyone as much as he was eating (I was jokingly calling him Chomper and Cujo after the techs described his survivalist skills).
And...he was due for another feeding right when I picked him up! LOL
Ah well. I figured we'd cross that bridge when we got home.
And so we did! I let him settle down quietly for awhile, keeping his tank away from Weeman and Ayize. Then I placed a bit of his food directly onto the towel floor of his tank and retreated to a distance to watch. He emerged, looked about, and then began devouring his food all on his own. Way to go, Chomper!
The doc says he can be released back into our backyard in a day or two as long as he's eating well and moving around okay. Hurrah! Here's to hoping for a happy ending tomorrow!
On a separate animalia note, Weeman fell asleep in my lap today at Lovelace Park. This was after snoozing away the early afternoon in his dog bed in a sunny spot in the backyard while I gardened madly. My little old man! He is slowing down so fast these days...
Anyway, I savored the moment. Wee was so peaceful, Ayize was playing at my feet, my good pal Tamara was beside me and we were chatting away at breakneck speed, the sun was shining down, the birds were singing, the air was ringing with the happy laughter of previously cabin-fevered kids...
Life is good.
And on a separate "plantalia" (LOL) note, my iris buds are beginning to burst forth - check out this two-headed bud!
I wrote the good peeps at the plant information center of the Chicago Botanic Gardens asking about it, and their response was that double-headers are quite rare and I shouldn't expect to see more than one, and it will probably come back as a normal, single bulb in future blooms.
I replied to them just now, telling them that there are at least 16, maybe more like 20 - 22 of these, in my yard! Wondering what their response will be...
Another one. A clearer picture; I shot it in the dark so the background wouldn't distract as much.
The first irises bloomed today. Two of these four (the one in the right foreground and the one directly behind it) are double-headers, as you can see of you look closely. The second heads have not yet opened on either. Can't wait to see what they look like when they do!
Okay, sorry about this somewhat depressing update: a mixture of happy and sad endings, and so many unknowns. As all life is, really, when you think about it.
Anyway, I have my fingers crossed for the happy endings.
Night, y'all.
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