Wednesday, August 10, 2005

pinky, we hardly knew ye


Not the exact same baby squirrel I found at Jamaica Pond yesterday, but the spitting image of him. Even down to the nubbly white washrag he's lying on. Too bad he didn't make it; I guess walking around outdoors can't always be baby ducks and healthy hawks. I can't seem to get him off my mind, though. It's funny; I lost two clients this year, but the predictable (though certainly unfortunate) death of a newborn squirrel is the one that has made me feel the grimmest. Something about the tiny helplessness of it, breathing its last breath in the palm of my hand, has stirred a sadness in me that I can't distance myself from like I can the others. Or, more likely, the relative lack of investment I had in him compared to my human charges has conjured a grief in a manageable size, whereas the other two are just too big, too scary, and too sad for me to feel as viscerally as this. Anyway, I don't think I'll be walking around Jamaica Pond for a while. At least until I feel a little less raw about the whole thing.

2 Comments:

Anonymous Colleen said...

You're a sweetheart for being there for the baby squirrel. You are sad for having gone thru that, yet I am comforted that you went thru that. It reaffirms my believe that there are really nice people out there.

5:46 PM  
Blogger P W Ruiz said...

please keep writing, i have not commented before but i love to read your thoughts.

P

6:59 AM  

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