About 4 p.m. today, I was driving home from a crazy circuit of the doctor, the pharmacy, and the pizza joint. Mamasboy has been pretty sick. And this morning, he started in talking about his ears. I don’t mess around with ears. I secured us an appointment with the doctor who already thinks I’m missing some very important faculties, and we did that whole thing. Since we’ve already completely wrecked any hope of a dignified reputation in that office, Sister CamelthatbrokeMama’sBack (her indian name) thought she’d just barge into a closed exam room.  People love that when they have sick infants.

Anyway, we killed our waiting time at the pharmacy by checking each other’s blood pressure, buying cough drops, and standing in the bakery. As we stood there waiting for our free cookie, it occurred to me that MB hadn’t eaten lunch. It was now 3 p.m. He hadn’t been hungry much today. So I said the healthiest thing I could think of, which was, “Would you like a glazed doughnut?” He said yes. And that was lunch.

Anyway, on the way home from all of that fun stuff, I ended up directly behind the company minivan for Lovely Lita’s Sheltering Tree Foundation Inc. Squirrel Rescue. I did not make any of that up. Except that the font on the car magnet was so swirley that it looked like Lovely Uta’s, and it took me forever to find Lovely Lita’s on Google with Uta’s as my search criteria. I had to bypass about 150,000 references to the great and beautiful state of Utah. They don’t rescue squirrels in Utah. Nor should they. Anywhere.

Why do we rescue squirrels? They are rats with fluffy tails. They are dirty rodents. During a Halloween celebration in the park, with children in costume and pizza for lunch, a squirrel jumped down out of an oak tree and stole a full, untouched slice of cheese pizza. I did not see the dirty rodent steal it. But it hit me in the head when he was done gnawing on it right overhead. Dirty cheese-pizza-eating rat. I wouldn’t rescue that guy.

Anyway, when I finally found Lovely Lita’s Sheltering Tree Foundation Inc. Squirrel Rescue, I read the Home Page. And I will share a couple of shocking things with you. Italics are my thought responses, though I’m certain you didn’t need that explanation.

Lita is the little one I named the organization after.  She came to me after a tropical storm came through the area.  At the time, I was only getting a squirrel here and there.  Why? Why were you only getting a squirrel here or there? Are you the squirrel whisperer? How do they find you? She was the only baby that came in to me that year.  I was working as a pet sitter full time when she was a baby so she went with me wherever I went.  When she was old enough to move around she would ride in the car and loved every minute of it.  She would ride on my shoulder and watch the world go by.  She loved going through the drive thru, especially McDonalds, as she would get little pieces of food.  AH, yes.  Nothing says ‘Baby Squirrel Rescue’ like a castoff Happy Meal. When she was about four months old she caught her top teeth on something and one was torn out. Ay Carumba! That is horrendous.

About two weeks later the second top tooth came out, too.  Apparently it had also been loosened when she lost the first one.  Neither tooth ever came back in so she had pulled them out by the root.  Yikers. Since she has no top teeth she is not releasable and lives with me.  She is a really amazing personality.  I’ll bet she is. She loves to come out every day and run around.  When you go into the room she wants to sit on you to be pet and loved.  She will then “let” you catch her and put her back in her cage. I know this isn’t a logical leap, but when I read that last sentence, I thought about Norman Bates dressed up as his mother. And now I’m picturing a toothless squirrel in a dress and a gray wig with a bun and a hatchet.