Two weekends ago, my dog had this squirrel in her mouth no less than two times as they zigged, zagged, and juked all over the back yard. She was so shocked to have gotten so close too it that she spat him back out each time. I too was shocked. So much so, that I couldn’t even call her off. I refuse to admit that it was some sick, latent sense of sport. He got away, but seemed hurt.

Since then I have been seeing him and have realized just how sickly he is. Struggling with the mange, what looks like some kind of growth, and what appears to be a broken left rear leg. I am hoping that Willow, the dog, didn’t cause it.

I choked up while he rested in the sun on the top beam of our fence. Not how you see other squirrels max out up in a tree limb, but a sort of “Oh my god how am I going to make it?” sort of way. He was all tucked in tight and you could see the pain in his eyes. I am a survival of the fittest by principle, so for me to be affected, it was definitely sad.

What makes me love this guy is that he refuses to give up. I see him hobbling all over the place in the very yard where Willow nearly got him – chewing up elm tree seed pods and foraging for the scrap bird seed. He is slow to climb up things and when he scratches himself (and he scratches a lot because of the mange) he has to lie on his back because of his gimp leg. He might be slow, but he is wary. I cannot sneak up on him close enough to take good photos (yet) and he yells at me when I try.

I cannot imagine him making it the summer let alone next winter, but I hope that he does. Definitely clearing the yard before letting Willow out now. Will follow with updates. Have been meaning to start a squirrel project anyhow. Kills me though because I am not using the Nikon D200 I had at my former employer. I needs me one dammit!