Petting chipmunks

We have a large, in-ground swimming pool which we greatly enjoy. Yet, each year it costs countless lives. Obviously, I am not talking about little boys and girls, but of the countless egg masses and developing tadpoles that come with the spring. I spend much time gathering the eggs and relocating them and yet many never make it to “frog or toad – hood.” Additionally, some of nature’s more advanced creatures parish, especially during the spring, likely due to thoughts of love rather than safety. Most often the rabbits, chipmunks, mice and voles are floating motionless when I find them, but that is not always the case.

This morning was such a case. As I peered through the sliding doors, I noticed a familiar rippling of the water. I rushed out to find a very tired chipmunk treading water and as I have done several times before, I reached in and lifted him out. I held him (her?) and gently scratched his head for a moment before putting him down near the underbrush. But he just laid there, shivering. It was then I realized that another few minutes in the cold pool would have finished him off, just like my falling into an icy bay would likely do me in. I gently picked him up, wrapped him in the only thing readily available, one of my socks, and held him. And yet he shivered, lying there with his eyes barely open. A few moments later, Mary brought me one of those bean bag heating pads that she had warmed in the microwave. Its shape and heat did the trick. For a little while, I held the soggy victim on the heating pad and then I laid the pad on the ground with the sock-wrapped chipmunk on top of it. He shivered for a while and perhaps slept, but in ten minutes or so he departed for his home.

We were both lucky. For you can never pet too many chipmunks.