Because every life should have a fighting chance

I’m not much of a cat person. I prefer creatures that like me to those that use me for food and water. But Biscotti’s a nice cat. At least he cuddles.

I decided I like him around because he catches scorpions. So far, there’s no proof that he actually does catch scorpions… in fact, we were alerted to the latest scorpion invader by Gopal, who seemed to think it was a toy. (On a side note, Muthu then decided to catch the scorpion in a glass jar, and its now living in our kitchen. Yuck.) But Monica’s cat in Texas hunted scorpions, and that’s enough for me.

Unfortunately, cats apparently are indiscriminant hunters, and this morning Biscotti decided to attack a squirrel’s nest. It was a quiet affair; no particular noise stood out from the others as I walked Gopal through the Land. But as we neared the kitchen, the chirping grew louder and more desperate. Sitting proudly on the path was Biscotti with a baby squirrel in its mouth.

What to do but try to rescue it?

So suddenly we’re caring for a baby squirrel. How? By wrapping it in gauze and feeding it watered-down milk from a syringe. Chances of survival are slim… but it’s always good to hope.