The Resident Carpenter tried to break it to me gently. "William has a, well, er, uhm...a vagina," he said. "Beg pardon?" "William," he tried again, "Is a girl squirrel. Not a boy." I gave him The Look. "Clearly, that is impossible." "You and I both massaged his little...appendage to help him go to the bathroom when he was a [...]
Please, sir: May I have another nut?!! A squirrel is a rat with (much) better PR. There. I've said it. Doesn't mean I don't adore William the Conqueror-Squirrel, or that I love rats (although I've kept much-loved pet rats and hamsters). Or that I haven't cussed at the occasional dammit-get-OUT-of-my-attic squirrel. If you'd like to read other stories about [...]
William the Conqueror-squirrel is now part of a household already enriched by Lola, Nikki, The Resident Carpenter, about a million saltwater denizens of the deep, assorted garden vegetables, and a number of wild critters living (only, I hope) in the backyard. This is the story of a squirrel orphan being rehabbed to the wilderness.
Snuck out of the house early Sunday morning, hobbling downstairs to the garage and deserting the Resident Carpenter, snoring peacefully at the other end of the hall. I slipped into Chiquitita the Porsche, dropped her top, and just ... drove, the niggling nags jacketing me like a cement overcoat: The backyard slugs and moles and coyotes and birds and squirrels [...]
We saved Elmo. Now to do some impossible things. (such as say "thank you") Alice laughed. “There’s no use trying,” she said: “one can’t believe impossible things.” “I daresay you haven’t had much practice,” said the Queen. “When I was your age, I always did it for half-an-hour a day. Why, sometimes I’ve believed as many as six impossible things [...]
"Excuse me," says the little girl, shyly, fingering the rails of my grannywalker, "Are you really old? My great-grandma has a cage like that too, and she's REALLY old." Don't kids--the ones who survive the next five minutes, anyway--say the darnedest things? It's take-your-kid-to-work day, and my new mini-coworkers are endlessly fascinated with my mobility assist tools. Wherever I go [...]
A month ago, traversing this sandy path down to the river would have been unthinkable. Yet here I am. "SHE," said the guard, pointing to me, "is what we call S.T.U.B.B.O.R.N." "Absolutely," I grinned, and continued to climb the courthouse steps with my grannywalker. "Ma'am, we HAVE a wheelchair lift," the guard repeated, patiently, "Wouldn't you feel...safer...not climbing [...]
My very first in-person tidepool since falling. It was glorious. Here's what they don't tell you about recovery from a catastrophic injury: It's only gradual from the 10,000-foot view. Up close, it's fits, starts, and frustration, punctuated by euphoria. Two and a half-steps forward, one step back. One step forward, three steps back. My body retreats to near-immobility [...]
"Do you have a cane?" Brenda-the-PT asked, and I nodded, "Good. Bring it next time. I want you to graduate from your walker to a cane." Heady stuff. Me, not lugging around walkers and wheelchairs? Wow. "No long walks on a cane yet, only short trips," she warned, "And no carrying heavier stuff when you're on the cane, at least [...]
Frank Sinatra, the blue-eyed hermit crab Starting a marine reef tank is a lot like adopting a demanding, finicky child that eats its playmates and spends money like, well, seawater. Fred Mertz* the reef tank has been alive for a bit more than a week, and definitely has taken over our lives. I wake to find the the [...]
