Friday Morning

Photo: Ken Haley

Mr. Rosenberg and I were in the car, just pulling away from the house. "Oh, no! Look at the little guy!" he said. In the street was a young squirrel, injured and unable to move very fast. I got out of the car, stopped traffic, picked him up, and put him on the grass. I sat talking to him while Mr. Rosenberg went to the backyard to grab a small cardboard box to put him in.

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.