http://www.facebook.com/rockythefs

TO HERE ABOUT ALL HIS STUFF UP TO DATE

So I haven't posted in awhile- but I felt like sharing this story.

I'll put an update on my life later. Though this is a story that takes place back late August.

Rocky:

Go to the grocery store, buy a few things, come home, cook a little something (in this case, I baked pomegranate cupcakes,) clean a little, finish up a design project, and relax. A simple day by my standards. Though let's rewind that, go to the grocery store, buy a few things, but before getting back home something happened, that something was a ball of fur on the sidewalk.

Grey fur, black marks, a white tummy, small enough to hide in my hand. “Aw, I think it's a dead mouse.â€? I told Megan on our walk home. Then it's leg moved. Now to inform you, I am the kind of person who loves animals and nature so much that I pick cicadas off the sidewalk on my walks and put them in grass or trees to avoid them ever being hurt or killed. So this of course stopped me in my tracks. What once looked like a dead mouse, was now panting heavily, and from under its body sprouted a tail, a furry tail. “Wait… is that a gerbil?â€? we wondered. “Maybe a baby squirrel?â€? then it began to move a little, and then we saw it's webbed legs. A baby flying squirrel.

“I didn't even think they lived around here!â€? I said in awe, I couldn't see a nest in sight, and there were too many people to just leave it there. So we took a grocery bag from our double bagged collection of food, and I put it in to prevent any skin to squirrel contact. The walk home Megan and I switched turns carrying the bags, and carrying the squirrel. Along that walk Megan wanted to name it Rocky, which we both loved the idea.

I have done this often enough in my life that my mom just knows when I do it. Whether I'm smuggling mice in my closet or nurturing an armless turtle. She gets the look of “What is it now?â€? on her face when we come home, though she isn't upset, but sympathetic. The hard part was breaking the news to my dad, but even that went over well. What else would we do? Leave it for the cats and racoons outside? Never.

For the first night he lived in a bird cage, in a pile of leaves and toilet paper. That night I also ran what had been 3 miles in total just to get him Esbilac Puppy Milk and a tiny syringe for him to nurse on. With that, and a load of research between my mom and myself, and a few phone calls, he was in good hands. He even had a little bed which consisted of a footy sock that I heated up with the hair dryer and put in his cage to keep him warm (which is very important.)

That was Sunday, over the course of Monday, Tuesday, and today I've bathed him, fed him, nursed him with the syringe, had him sleep on me, let him run around, and gave him a larger cage with a branch full of berries and leaves, toilet paper as the ground cover (he really loves toilet paper) and of course his little warm sock. He drinks lots of milk, even grabbing the syringe and pulling it toward him like a baby with a bottle. He also loves walnuts, munching down on about one to two a day.

Now with all the care I've dedicated to Rocky, he's become attached to me. Having saved his life, and now mothering him, that is expected. Even flying squirrels are common pets because they grow attached. Though he is adorably clingy. When I go to put him back in his cage he tries to climb on my hand, he always wants to be on my shirt, he sleeps on my shoulder, or in the crevice of my arm when he's on me, and more.

Today I came home and found him wide awake gnawing on a berry off his branch, when he realized I was there he became almost embarrassed it seemed and hid, then I put my hand in the cage and he climbed into my hand. I fed him, saw he ate his two walnuts while I was at school, and thought to myself today would be a good day to let him get outside a little.

We tried trees, branches, pieces of wood, the hammock to test his skills of climbing. After all, before I could consider releasing him back into the wild, I have to know he can survive. Though whenever he went about trying to climb he would go a little and then stop, almost becoming limp, and just stay still. He waved his hand at my hands and every time got his way back into my hands, and eventually when he got in my hands, he buried his face and tried to go to sleep. He had a big day, so I took him back in and warmed up his sock bed and like always, the second he touches the sock bed, he crawls inside and falls asleep without a moment to spare.

So all in all he's doing good, he's only 5 weeks old, and still would be in the nest. Though I'm beginning to wonder if this is ironic. Do I have a flying squirrel afraid of heights?

-August 29th, 2012

One-hundred Forty Three days later he's still part of the family and even has a large hamster-like cage in my room and is still just as attached. Though there were bumps in the road a long the way- though he was more than worth it!

Like I said, if you want a hundred days of stories about how I raised a 5 week old baby flying squirrel into a family member feel free to check out the facebook page.

I would copy and paste every status, but that wouldn't work out the way I want it to.

http://www.facebook.com/rockythefs