Saturday, October 10, 2015
Friday, October 9, 2015
The vet referred us to the Humane Society where there is apparently a "squirrel rehab." We drove there with the squirrel box on my lap. He was breathing but it was hard to tell exactly what was going on with him.
We filled out squirrel paperwork at the Humane Society. I looked in the box one last time before they took him away. He had curled up in to a little ball. That didn't seem good. I was still hopeful. "We'll say a Kaddish for him just in case," said Mr. Rosenberg.
Rest easy, little guy.
Thursday, October 8, 2015
Wednesday, October 7, 2015
"Is your brother still sick, Felix?"
"Sort of but not as bad as night before last when he had a fever. When I touched him it felt like ---"
"Touching a hot oven that you're making pizza in?"
"Touching a kid who's been outside playing soccer on a really hot day?"
"Touching the top of your head after you stand under the heater?"
"No. He felt like if you had the heater on and you were making pizza in the oven and you were standing next to the oven on a really hot day."
Labels: My son the doctor