A Christmas Valentine’s Tale
Last Monday at about 5pm, my office door opens and in pops Lilly’s head. Her face is cloudy but I can almost see the adrenaline rush around in there.
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She calls me out to her illegally-parked car and asks me to look in through the passenger side window. Inside a temporary pet carrier, snuggled in the far corner, looking to me like it’s sleeping the long sleep, is a little squirrel. I mean really little. The same kind of squirrel you see scampering up a tree, or sitting there staring at you as you pass by like it’s possessed; the same kind of squirrel you chase off your fruit trees and the same kind you drive past, shielding your eyes from the little display of horror.
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This little guy had been wandering around, dazed, on one of the busiest streets in Toluca Lake. Lilly, proper, law-abiding Lilly, stopped her car and got out in the middle of traffic and single-handedly made every car whizzing by stop! She carried the squirrel to her car and came rushing to work. “I didn’t want to be late,” she told me.
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She talked and cooed to the squirrel. So afraid and almost sure that it didn’t have very long to live, she called a local pet clinic and begged them to take the squirrel in so that “at least it will be in a peaceful, loving environment when it takes its last breath.” They told her to bring the little guy in. I so wish you could have seen the relief and joy on her face at that moment.
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She took the squirrel in.
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The next morning I received this email:
Welll, the squirrel made it through the night and is eating peanuts right now.
[The pet store] has calls in to several wildlife rescue places and he’ll/she’ll eventually be in rehab!
Go love someone! Anyone!
The Other Day at Portrait... 