“Life is a series of experiences, each one of which makes us bigger, even though sometimes it is hard to realize this.
For the world was built to develop character, and we must learn that the setbacks and grieves which we endure help us in our marching onward.”
(Henry Ford)
It couldn’t have come at a worse time. The late summer baby season was in full-swing and the final rush of preparations for the annual state wildlife rehabilitator’s conference were underway. With the enormous amount of effort needed to do both these things, along with working the hours required by the day job that pays for it all, I was solidly in the “everyone eats but the mom” mode and often getting even less sleep than food.
But then again, nothing happens for a reason so perhaps the timing was, indeed, quite perfect. But in those first few moments, I stared at the small stack of papers from the City and as the enormity of the situation dawned on me, I began to shake.
After 10 years my wildlife rehabilitation here in the ‘hood was, for all practical purposes, being shut down.
Not because I had personally done anything wrong, mind you, but the elephant in the room here in this densely-treed and densely human-populated little City is the Norway rat; that mercenary non-native rodent who cannot exist without the habitat and food provided so readily and carelessly by humans. When one of the main roads bordering this small City was torn out and replaced, the Norway rats from adjacent cities were displaced and came out into the light of day to find themselves in what must have seemed to be near-rat heaven. And so over the last few years they have thrived on my neighbors’ trash and dog droppings, setting up housekeeping in backyard brush and woodpiles and in poorly-maintained garages and sheds. This summer the sightings of them “in broad daylight!” had the City inspectors out and about almost daily on complaints and furiously writing both letters about how to deal with the situation and tickets to those residents whose small lots were not maintained in up-to-snuff rat-proof condition.
Being close to the ground, so to speak, where wild animals are concerned, I had deliberately altered things here in The Peaceable Kingdom several years ago when the first word of Norway rats in the ‘hood was whispered. The firewood was put up on a stand 18″ above the ground with a thick bed of gravel below; the big feeder for the squirrels was put on a post almost 6’ high and food never left out after dark; the pre-release pens were kept clean and unused as much as possible so as to avoid giving any passing rat the impression they could easily find food and therefore think settling in here to raise a family might be a nice idea.
And for a good while it worked, with the occasional scout rat live-trapped and relocated far, far away. But when you’re one of only a few being truly conscientous, in the long run your efforts cannot outweigh those who remain careless and so it was that in order to keep the peace, so to speak, the City decided to crack down.
While I cannot blame them, at the same time it still hurts to have what had originally been greeted with open arms now being seen as a nuisance. The neighbors are equally unhappy; even the man who takes care of the yard next door asked what happened to the pens. No one with whom I’ve spoken thought the City should have done this, but rules are rules and what’s done is done. Certainly I understand their point; I’m not thrilled with the idea of living where rats thrive but this is one case where it’s just not worth it to fight City Hall. A couple of years ago I’d started looking for a larger place with more suitable property, postponing the search only because of the recent market crash. Now, however, it seems I’ve been given the sign it’s really time to go.
So the search is back on in earnest to find a big house on a wooded parcel, adjacent to as big of a wooded green belt as possible. It’s a daunting task made easier by the unfortunate, ever-increasing number of foreclosures on the market. It also means readying this house for sale or lease, and coming up with enough cash to make it all happen as quickly as possible.
And here is where this particular tale becomes an interactive one. In large measure, these squirrel tales began because of you. Now, they need your help to continue. Ongoing maintenance of existing setups and animals must continue to be funded. One pre-release pen in another location needs serious work. These kinds of financial burdens are ones I have always born willingly, but in order to move this business into a better situation, I am asking for your help. Donations to A Squirrel’s Tale now will allow our work to continue while allowing more of my personal monies towards relocating us.
Checks and money orders may be sent to us in care of P.O. Box 1708, Royal Oak, Michigan, 48068. We also accept money through Paypal ( CLICK HERE ). Any amount will help, and all donations are tax-deductible to the extent permitted by law. And most importantly, they are greatly appreciated.
We always have an annual calendar available at our online store so please consider a purchase (the calendar, and other items you can find there, make great holiday gifts).
Thank you for your support.
