a peek inside the fishbowl

From time to time the girls decide that they want to go out for a walk around the neighborhood. I’m a keen walker, and I welcome the distraction.

When they were in strollers the four of us always took a walk after dinner. When they were a little older it sometimes took a bit of convincing.

“But think of the animals we might see!” I’d chirp, trying to inject my voice with enthusiasm like a salesperson trying to finagle someone into a timeshare.

Not that there’s anything exotic in this neighborhood. Last year we had a black bear, although that’s the exception, not the rule. Instead we have a lot of the usual suspects: dogs, cats, and birds. As mundane as they may seem, they still have great appeal for the girls. It is, however, considered it a bonus if we see a bat, a raccoon, or a skunk. And it’s highly possible we could see any of that latter group as we have had previous sightings.

Lately the girls have taken the notion that they are members of a secret Animal Rescue Team (A.R.T for short) and that their duty is to save injured animals. (Or “dangered animals” as Sarah has been known to call them.)

I know where the idea came from. For the last couple of months our bedtime reading has consisted entirely of stories from a “Secret Seven” collection by Enid Blyton. So Emma and Sarah have developed this unquenchable thirst for great adventure.

When we’re going on an animal rescue walk the girls bring the following items:

• small plastic suitcase
• tissues
• gardening gloves
• leaves
• magnifying glass

One of the other girls carries an extra shoebox lined with tissues (i.e. bedding) and I bring a nalgene of water.

The first time they pulled out all of this gear I said no.

“You don’t really want to carry all of that stuff around with you, do you?”

They insisted. I gave in. Really, what does it matter? What’s the worst thing that can happen? We find an animal in need of resuscitation? Highly unlikely. Right?

So this morning I was busy working (scrambling to complete a rush job) and Sarah came bursting in the door.

“MUMMY MUMMY!!!” she yelled. “A SQUIRREL FELL OFF THE ROOF AND INTO THE FORNS! WE HAVE TO SAAAAAAVE IT” She was clearly excited about something.

“Slow down kid. Who fell into the what?”

“A squirrel! Into the FORNY rose bushes!”

I got up. Squirrels are Nature’s acrobats. Have you ever seen one miscalculated and fall? So not really believing, I decided to humour her and check it out.

The rose bushes are right outside the back door. I walked down the steps and peered near the ground between the mass of thorny stalks. There was nothing out of the ordinary. No squirrel.

I went back inside. And not five minutes later I heard the shrieking. This time it was Emma.

“Mummy the SQUIRREL! IT’S HERE!”

I went back outside. And there he was. A little red squirrel was balancing on one of the upper branches.

The girls were running around in circles behind me. Yelling things like:

“SAVE IT MUMMY!”

“THE GARDENING GLOVES ARE IN THE PINK SUITCASE!”

and the unexpected:

“CAN WE KEEP IT?”

My membership of the A.R.T was expiring before my eyes. This was the moment of truth. But there was no way I was going to reach into a rose bush to grab a squirrel that was already twitchy with fear. Those whiskers were hiding TEETH. And it’s not like the gardening gloves are made out of chainmail.

Instead, I ran into the house and returned with a package of almonds. My plan was to lure him out. We spread some nuts on the stairs. He creeped out from behind the steps for a moment and inspected our fairy house (a tiny roofless house made of twigs to provide shelter for lost fairies) and then went back to jabber at us from under the steps. He ignored the nuts. Bastard. Are blanched almonds too good for you?

I had to return to my deadline, so I left the girls to watch and see if the little guy came out. They got bored after a few minutes and went on to other things. Sarah checked back later and saw he was gone. And now everyone’s happy, and we’re imagining him telling the story to his brothers and sisters.

Lor’ help me if we ever encounter an injured skunk.