“As I have discovered by examining my past, I started out as a child. Coincidentally, so did my brother. My mother did not put all her eggs in one basket, so to speak: she gave me a younger brother named Russell, who taught me what was meant by ‘survival of the fittest.'”
Because George Staples was too injured and a little too young to be put into the foster litter made up of Stevie and Titan, once his staples were removed and he was starting to feel up to playing like a normal baby squirrel, he was given a stuffed plush dog toy, about his size and in the shape of a squirrel. And like all young fox squirrels, George loved his “Kenny” and would spend long periods of time pouncing on it, rolling around over it, and rolling around under it. He also loved when I would pick up Kenny and wiggle it at him, making for a much more lifelike and exciting playtime.
Sometimes, when like all small children up way past their bedtime George would still want to bounce when I needed to be in bed, I would have to stuff Kenny’s front end into George’s sleep sack in order to get the message across to him that not only playtime but the entire day was officially over. In the morning I’d often find him still snuggled up against it; Kenny may have been an extremely retarded foster sibling, but Kenny was George’s well-loved foster sibling nonetheless.
Up early this morning, I noticed George had also awakened. I walked over to his small cage and he greeted me with the usual grunty oofs of happiness, begging for his ration of morning formula. I obliged, but when I went to put the small dish into his cage, I noticed that Kenny was shoved into the corner and laying on top of George’s food dish. And the water bottle was empty. When I picked up Kenny to move it, I realized that Kenny suddenly weighed a whole lot more than it had weighed last night.
Yes, he killed Kenny. Drowned Kenny, to be exact. Or maybe it is better described as a form of Chinese water torture since Kenny had apparently spent the night pressed up against the spout of the water bottle. But like the Kenny on South Park, this little round ball will also mysteriously reappear. Once he dries out, of course. And George will continue to love his Kenny with every ounce of harrassment he can inflict upon it.