"You have to turn him loose soon, Tim. You know it's not fair to keep a squirrel in a cage."
"I know, Mom. He's only eight weeks old though. I'm going to camp in two weeks, I'll turn him loose there. It's the perfect place for a squirrel, and he will be a little bigger too," said Tim.
The subject of the discussion jumped off of his shoulder, and sprinted towards the huge oak tree in the backyard. Soon he was looking at the neighbor's window, and began chattering angrily at a fat orange cat.
"Well, as long as you understand that you can't keep him caged, or in the house much longer... I let you raise him to save his life. But I also told you not to get too attached," she reminded Tim.
"I know, and I will miss Chatterbox - a lot," he admitted. "But I would never want to keep him prisoner," insisted Tim.
"Why not just let him stay in the backyard, then? You and he would have the best of both worlds. You could play with him every day, and he would be free," suggested Mom.
"He does love that tree... If Chatterbox was a little older, I would. But as small as he is, I'm afraid that Mrs. Herre's cat will get him. It almost did a few days ago... I had to chase it home. Are you sure I can't skip summer camp just this once? Then he would be ready to stay out here long before school started," Tim pleaded.
"You love that place. I won't allow you to give it up. You gave up eight weeks of your life already, the first part while you still had school. I still can't believe Miss Dane let you take a baby squirrel to school every day. Or that you got through the first couple of weeks where he needed constant feeding," marveled Mom.
"I didn't give up anything, I loved raising Chatterbox," said Tim earnestly.
"I know you did, and I'm proud of you for being so kindhearted. And I also know you really didn't see it as a sacrifice. But it was. You missed your best friend's birthday party, a field trip to the new amusement park, and we even cancelled our family road trip. All for an animal that you are probably going to lose soon," Mom said sadly.
"I just wish I could stay home and finish what I started, so he could get big enough to live in the yard," said Tim.
"Well it's your choice if you leave him in the yard when you go, or take him with you. I'm certain your counselor won't let you keep a squirrel in the cabin though, so you will lose him for sure if you take him."
Two weeks later:
"If I leave him, will you please try to make sure that mean old cat doesn't get him, Mom?"
I will do my best, and today I will be weeding the garden. So I will be in a good position to keep an eye on him," she assured.
"Goodbye, Chatterbox. Be a good boy, and try to remember me?" Tim said as he stroked the small animal. Walking towards the oak to hide his tears, he gently placed the squirrel on the lowest branch, and wiped his eyes.
That evening:
"Well Chatterbox, I hope you'll enjoy your first night in your new home," said Mom, as she smiled at the little squirrel, who had come out of the tree as she gathered up her gardening tools.
Chatterbox made a few uncertain sounds, and hopped onto the porch.
"None of that now, you're free," she said in a gentle shooing voice.
In response, the baby squirrel moved over a few inches to let her pass. She opened the door, humming.
"Well... What do you think you're doing? You certainly don't want back in that cage," said Mom, looking at the sad animal waiting at the door to her son's empty room.
"He's not in there, Chatterbox. You should go back outside," she said gently, and opened the front door. Chatterbox didn't move.
"Oh, alright... I guess one more night won't hurt. You just need a little time to get used to this, like Tim said," she agreed, and opened the door to his room.
Chatterbox streaked into the open cage, and chattered happily.
"Soon enough you'll be happy to say goodbye to this wire house," she said as she closed the latch securely.
The next evening:
"Oh, not again? You've been outdoors all day, why don't you just spend the night?" Mom asked, trying to edge inside without letting her son's pet repeat last night's performance.
Like a flash, he climbed the doorjamb, and entered above her head. Sighing, she let him in the cage for another night.
This went on for several more days, then the flustered mother had an idea. "I'll just put the cage on the porch early in the day. He can use it as an open bedroom, or not. I'll stay inside and read," she thought.
Around one A.M.:
YOWL!!!
CHATTER!
HISS!
CHATTER!!!
SQUALL!!!
"What's going on?!?!" Mom thought drowsily. Then she remembered.
"Oh no, what have I done? Tim was right about the cat," she thought, dragging herself out of bed.
When she opened the door, she gasped. A fierce battle was being waged on her porch! Chatterbox was in a corner of his cage, and the front half of an enormous orange cat was also in there.
Quickly she grabbed the cat's waist, hoping she wouldn't be scratched. Not much chance it could bite - yet. With one quick, fluid motion, she pulled the cat out, then placed a fluffy slippered foot in front of the cage door.
Obviously in need of some time to lick its wounds, the cat gave one final hiss, then disappeared into the bushes.
"Let's get you back inside," suggested Mom.
Instead of putting him back in the empty room, she placed the cage on a large table in the living room, after removing various souvenirs, figurines, and vases. Located right by a window, it was perfect.
"When he wants out, all I have to do is open the window," she thought happily.
Ten days later:
"Did you enjoy camp, Dear?"
"Sort of. I missed you, and worried about Chatterbox," he admitted.
"Well don't worry about him, I still see him around now and then," Mom said kindly as she opened the car door for her son.
Tim smiled sadly. "I wonder if he will remember me?"
Not answering, Mom turned the corner, and soon they were in the driveway.
"Go wash up, then there are cookies in the kitchen," she suggested.
Tim went in first, and Mom waited. Seconds later, he rushed out and hugged her. Chatterbox was firmly attached to his shoulder, chattering happily.
Cover image made in Canva using their gallery