Aspen tried to volunteer at the center a few times a week, depending on her college workload. Organic Chemistry was taking up a lot of her time. It was a diffcult subject for her; she needed extra help from the campus tutor. She was volunteering at the center to relax; sometimes she just needed a break. Her Saturday morning was spent with another volunteer, Mike. They met a few years ago when she was still in high school. He volunteered almost every weekend unless his job sent him out of town. Today they were feeding squirrels. They worked their way through the room, feeding them and changing the bedding that covered the bottoms of their cages. Each cage had between one and four squirrels. Aspen had a lot of experience feeding squirrels so she could feed four at a time, two syringes in each hand. Mike would lift the top of the cage; pull out the bottom, which needed to be cleaned, then set the top back down on the tabletop before the squirrel could escape. Most of the time this went smoothly. However, there was always one squirrel that did not cooperate and would dart out.
So far they were doing very well. As they worked, they talked about how Aspen’s semester was going. The further they got in the room the older the squirrels got until they were old enough to crack a nut and be moved outside. The older the squirrel was, the wilder it became. As Aspen filled out the squirrel-feeding log, she noticed a bright orange sticker that read MAY BITE. She made a mental note to be extra careful; a sticker like this usually meant the animal bit someone recently. Mike tossed fresh food in for them before lifting and sliding the bottom back in place just as Aspen finished with the squirrel formula. They made a great team and were almost done when suddenly one of the squirrels darted out from under the lid just as Mike lifted it off . He quickly lowered it back down, but it was too late. Aspen threw the syringes down, and shouted, “Squirrel on the floor!” She grabbed two nets, handing one to Mike, who was watching the squirrel so they would not lose it in the building. There were lots of hiding places for little animals, so they had to act fast.
“It’s over there!” Mike said pointing to the corner of the room. He and Aspen scattered in opposite directions. The squirrel was still calm, strolling casually along the floor; unaware Mike and Aspen were about to pounce. Aspen swooped the net down but just missed it. The squirrel darted across the room scampering up on a table. They could hear its nails scratching on the plastic tabletop. They both moved quickly to capture him, but squirrels are fast. Before they could get it, the squirrel jumped from the table to an aquarium housing water turtles. The squirrel had nothing to grip on the smooth glass side, so it slid to the floor, where it darted behind cardboard boxes stacked in the corner to be recycled. Mike moved some boxes to peek behind and as he did the squirrel darted out, right into Aspen’s net. The squirrel chattered angrily as Aspen picked it up very carefully so not to get bit. She was bit once and did not want to be bitten again; so she worked extra hard to avoid it. She lifted the squirrel from the ground, as Mike lifted the top of the cage. Scared, the squirrel hid in the Cheerios box inside his cage.
Suddenly, Mike started singing, “Squirrel on the Run, Squirrel on the Run,” to the tune of a Paul McCartney song. Aspen just could not stop laughing. They finished the rest of the squirrels with no problems, chatting about what was going on at the center. They went up to the front desk to ask what else needed to be done and were greeted by an ecstatic Nicole, who just learned that a young orphan feral pig was coming in.
Nicole lived out in the country with her husband where they had a mini farm with several dogs, ducks, pigs, a goat, and a turkey. She delegated tasks to Mike and Aspen while she prepared for the pig’s arrival. When the pig arrived, Aspen was in the kitchen washing dishes. She immediately knew it was there by its high-pitched squealing. Aspen finished the dishes then went to the front; she could not curb her curiosity any further. She found Nicole examining the piglet in a side room. It was a tiny little thing, completely black, with rough skin and coarse hair. It was wiggling and squealing in Nicole’s hands as she examined it. It had no injuries but was obviously hungry. Apparently, the couple that found it had been hiking in the woods when the lone piglet ran across the trail and began to follow them. They ignored it at first hoping a mother would call it, but there was no sign of any other pigs. They continued their hike until they emerged from the woods at the trailhead with the little black piglet still following. Not wanting to leave it, they brought it to the center. After the exam, the piglet weighing about two pounds was placed in a dog crate while Nicole prepared some formula.
Piglets were not something they commonly admitted, so she had to improvise and use a bottle and nipple typically used for fawns. When the formula was ready, Nicole asked Aspen and Mike if they wanted to help. It was a little cramped with all three of them in the small room. Mike stood just inside, with his back against the door. Aspen held the bottle and Nicole retrieved the piglet from the crate. It squirmed in her hands; worried she might drop it she placed it on the ground where it ran around their feet squealing. Nicole seated herself on the floor as Aspen handed her the bottle. She tried to position the piglet in her lap to feed it, but the piglet could not stop moving. She tried to show it the bottle of formula, but it could not latch on. The excitement was just too much. Aspen braced the piglet so it could latch on to the nipple, which helped a little, but this animal was a bundle of energy. Try as they might, it ended up with half of the milk on its face. After wiping the giant milk mustache from the piglet’s mouth, Nicole placed it back in the crate. The three of them giggled over the piglet as they left the room. Behind them, the piglet squealed away in the crate.
“I’ll call the director and let her know about the pig. Can you guys crank out ISO, then get the laundry caught up and make squirrel set ups?” Nicole asked.
“We’re on it,” Mike said, still smiling ear to ear from the piglet’s cuteness. They headed to ISO, where Aspen started on the kennels. The first kennel housed a pigeon that had an injured wing. Aspen held him under her arm while she changed the newspaper, then placed him back and got him fresh seed and water. The pigeon looked offended to be manhandled by a human. Next was an opossum with its jaw wired shut after being hit by a car. Mike held it wrapped in a towel while Aspen cleaned out the kennel and replaced the dirty towels with fresh ones, and then Mike gently placed it back. They were almost done when Aspen found the last kennel housed a domestic bunny with a large wound on its face. Whispering, Aspen asked Mike if he knew the bunny’s story. “Yeah, the poor girl was put in an Easter basket, then tossed outside as if she were a wild rabbit. I think they said a bot fly larva was under the skin by the corner of her eye, right there,” Mike said pointing to the sore beneath the rabbit’s right eye.
Aspen was not surprised. It seemed every year, a month or two after Easter the center would get in Easter babies; baby domestic animals bought for children’s Easter baskets then abandoned in the wild. In past years, Aspen saw baby chicks, bunnies, even baby ducks. Once done with ISO, Mike and Aspen spent the rest of the morning doing laundry. Aspen told Mike about her Grandpa Dean’s upcoming trip to Antarctica, and Mike told her about the remodel he had been doing at his home. Spending the day at the center was a great stress relief for Aspen to unwind from college. At the end of the shift, she said her goodbyes, asking Nicole to text her updates on the piglet if she could.
“Will do. Thanks for all your help today. See you next time,” Nicole chimed.
“Sure thing. It was fun as always. Bye, Mike,” she waved as she headed out the door and back to the real world.
