A Sad Tale from the Yard

I made a sad find at the edge of our yard on this day. In my morning perusal of the property, I spotted a small, wet body lying by the road. I first thought it was a drowned rat, but upon looking closer, I realized it was a young chipmunk: one of OUR yard chipmunks. There was not any obvious sign of injury, but I presume it got nipped by a passing car. :-(

I picked the critter up by the tail to bring it up onto our property and give it a proper burial, or at least a toss into friendly weeds. But when I laid it on the bottom step of the front porch stairs, it stirred a little; then it breathed in and out. It was alive! 

So I placed the chipmunk on a frisbee under a little table in the backyard where it would be covered from the drizzle, and gave it chest compressions. It stirred a little again. I touched it with my hand, willed my own heat and life force into its cool, damp body. I shed tears in the rain.

When I went back inside the house, I told the Dancing Girls, and immediately, they wanted to go out and sit with the chipmunk to offer moral support, and so we did just that. I didn't think the chipmunk would make it, but at least its passing would NOT be as an abandoned animal along the roadside in the rain.

I went out and checked on the chipmunk at least every hour. I had found the chipmunk around 7 a.m. I figured it would be a goner by 9. But it was still breathing at noon, and I began to wonder if I should have tried to take it to a local wild animal rescue.

But my original sense was that it did not have long for this world, and the best course of action would be to allow it to pass on to the Next Place in the peace and privacy of its own home.

I told my Facebook friends about the chipmunk, and they offered moral support. Someone suggested I put a blanket of leaves over it, to make it feel more secure. And so I did that.

And so it was that the little chipmunk rested under a blanket of leaves, watched over carefully by the pair of Dancing Girls. While I did not hear any sounds, I like to think that they conversed with it, and sang to it quietly, and encouraged it, and told it sweet stories.

It had been raining all morning, and I couldn't help having the irrational thought that if the sun would just come out and its rays would touch the little creature, that it might spring back to life again.

When the afternoon sun finally did come out, my husband and I went and sat in the yard. We placed the frisbee with the chipmunk and the Dancing Girls on top of the table, in the direct rays of the sun.

The little animal seemed to breathe a bit easier, and I suddenly was full of hope. My husband placed chopped peanuts on the frisbee within easy reach, so that if it woke up and needed a snack, it would have one right there.

There were several times when I checked on the chipmunk that it didn't seem to be breathing anymore, and I felt sad. But then I'd leave it, and the next time I'd come by, it would be breathing again. Like it or not, death takes its own sweet time.

I fretted over what to do with the injured chipmunk come nightfall, but my husband had a good idea. We would put it with its frisbee on the deck where another yard creature would be unlikely to get it. More rain was expected, so I ended up putting the frisbee on the deck bench and the table over top of that.

I added a small container of water by the chipmunk's head. What if it awoke? Don't even the dying deserve to soothe their parched throats? And what if it would get cold? So I covered it with a tiny blanket (you may be surprised to learn that the blanket was my husband's suggestion).

Flowers seemed appropriate - I had seen some lovely violets in the yard - might it want to eat them as a snack? So I placed some violets on the blanket within easy reach. That is how we left things at eventide, just as you see in the photo in the extras.

I wished and prayed for a miracle that did not come. I am sorry to report that when I went out the next morning to check on things, the chipmunk had passed away. Its body was cold and stiff, its breathing days were done.

What I did not expect was that it was the last night of the Dancing Girls, as well. For they had been off their plant for more than a week at this point, and apparently their last task - a mission of mercy - was completed.

I said a prayer and buried all three of them at the back of Gremlin's Meadow, near the spot where the poet's daffodils bloom like white angels each spring.

Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust. From life to death, and life again. Amen.

It was a very strange day, and I know this is a very odd story. I'm sorry I couldn't give anyone a happy ending, though I tried very hard to do so, and I wished for it with all my heart.

Apparently, I will rarely be the one to save any dying creature; my yard stories begin in mercy and often end in death. But I will be there - always - to sit over any dying creature and provide love and moral support, and my tears. And at the very end, a place to rest in Gremlin's Meadow.

I admit that I have never before stood vigil over a dying chipmunk, and I am here to report it was harder than you might think. At one point, it felt totally ridiculous - especially when my husband and I were sitting in our yard with the dying chipmunk and the Dancing Girls in the sun.

Hey, just a normal American family spending a Saturday afternoon together. (Not!) I almost laughed out loud at the thought of us there, our bizarre little family. It turns out that was the best part of the day: the sun was shining, and I was full of hope.

It's hard to pick just one song to encompass a day like this. So here are two. The first one is for me, as I shed a tear or two over this whole thing, as you might imagine. So here is Vince Gill, with Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain.

The second song is for the Dancing Girls, those angels of mercy who spent their last day on earth offering grace to a fallen comrade. The song for those kind, brave girls is the Badlees, with Angels of Mercy.