Wednesday, October 21st: Pedestrian traffic between Furman and Neeley came to a standstill as students and faculty stopped to look at an abandoned baby squirrel, wandering around a large magnolia tree. The group of largely-female bystanders stood in awe, watching the pathetic animal wander from person to person, desperately wanting love and attention, any at all.
“Oh my god!” Exclaimed XXX XXX, a sophomore, before tearing herself away and heading to class. “Poor thing! It’s so adorable! I wonder what’s wrong with it?” Other students had identified the squirrel as wandering the vicinity since about 11 am that morning.
With winter fast approaching and baby squirrels learning to fend for themselves, such unabashed examples of pure adorability and helplessness are not uncommon. Last month, a baby squirrel famously stopped all traffic in a 20-yard radius after it was found mewing for help outside of Cole, forcing all inhabitants of the building to rush outside and start a campus-wide search for a cardboard box, bedding, and baby formula. A fight even broke out over who would be able to keep the “adorable cutie-pie,” and what its name would be. The fight ended with three casualties and the disappearance of the baby squirrel.
At about 3 pm, when this new baby squirrel refused all attempts to place it back in a tree and began tragically climbing up the legs of any passersby who could possibly be a warm and safe comfort from the hundreds of stomping feet and nearby lawnmowers, a concerned group of students started a task group to decide what was to be done. YYY YYY, a senior, stood cupping the baby squirrel in her arms, who was desperately trying to burrow into the warmth of her sweater.
“I had stopped to look at him and see what was happening when he ran up my leg and up on my shoulder,” YYY said. YYY went on to explain that when she tried to remove him, he just gamely clutched onto her sweater with a single tiny paw. “I couldn’t just go to class when he was sitting there all alone! I knew something must be done.”
A group of students 111, 222, 333, and YYY (NOTE: all women), banded together to decide what to do with the squirrel. “We couldn’t just leave him there with all those lawnmowers!” said 111, a junior. “I mean, I had homework and everything, but I couldn’t just turn my head when such awful things are happening in the world!” The task force spent a grueling hour and half petting, feeding, and taking pictures of the adorable shivering ball of cuteness before 333 made contact with a wildlife rehabilitation center which agreed to take the thing.
“Heroes? Maybe,” Said YYY, watching a grown squirrel singlehandedly carry an entire pizza up a tree. “Inasmuch as anyone who saves the life of a living creature can be considered a hero. We may have all sacrificed class today, but if we had gone to class, we would have sacrificed a life. An adorable, precious, ickle baby life.”
You’re in class and a monkey bites you on the face. What do you do?
