When I was 15 I had a mouse named Zsa Zsa. I came home late one night and found Zsa Zsa eating her babies. There she sat with a baby between her paws snacking on it's head. From that moment on any pink, creepy thing with a bald tail has totally grossed me out to the point of swooning therefore, I was not excited to see Frank. I was shocked, however, at how lively Frank was. Wiggle. Wiggle. Wiggle. Squeak. Squeak Squeak. The only thing Frank has going for him at this point was his tenacity.
The boy showed me where he found Frank near the play area rock climbing wall. Sure enough, there is a huge nest about 1 1/2 stories up in a big old Live Oak. How Frank survived the fall I'll never know. He had a tiny lump on his head with a little abraded area. Now I not only have this pink rat looking thing, I have a pink rat looking thing with a concussion. I told the boy he should probably put it back where he found it and then he informed me there was a big black racer lurking for a Frank meal. The boy chased the snake away. I'm all for the circle of life but dawg! The thought of Frank being swallowed whole by a black racer made me even more nauseous.
Oh, ok we'll keep Frank only because there are no other options but he will not survive. He had a bad fall. He's too little to be separated from his mommy. The usual critter speech falling on deaf ears. I give it my best effort and got on the Internet researching care of orphaned squirrels. Being a medical family I had just about everything I needed on hand including the Peidaltye recommended for the first few feeds. I can't believe I am feeding this alien rat looking thing at 1 AM holding him upright to prevent aspiration.
No one was more surprised than me when I saw this this morning:
Frank is still alive and kicking. I'll be a Monkey's Uncle. Or in this case, a Squirrels' nurse maid. Unfortunately, now we have an additional problem. Somehow from the puddle pad he is sleeping on he developed a fiber tourniquet around his tail tip. At 7 am I am attempting to cut way the fine fibers but the tail tip does not look good. Frank eats heartily in spite of it all. Wiggle. Wiggle. Squeak. Squeak. Before i put him back to bed in the garage I washed his little boo boo head and tail with a q-tip. Every time I feed him I am reminded of one of my favorite scenes from the Princess Bride:
Valerie: "Bye Bye boys!"
Miracle Max: "Have fun storming the castle!"
Valerie: "Think it'll work?"
Miracle Max: "It'll take a miracle."
I'm with Max.