by Eric Walters
“What exactly is it?” Nathan’s mother asked.
“It’s a squirrel hotel. This is the entrance,” he said, spinning it around to show them a small opening.
“And this is the inside.” He undid a little latch and the whole top of the box swung open on hinges. The inside was lined with blankets and towels.
“It looks nice and soft,” Nathan said. “Do you think they’ll like it?”
“There’s only one way to find out.”
His father closed the lid and then carefully placed the box on the floor among the baby squirrels. At first they didn’t seem to notice. Then one of them started sniffing it, and a second got up on his back paws to try to look over it. A third, his cheeks full of seeds, jumped up on top and started eating.
“You’re supposed to go inside,” Nathan explained to them.
Then, almost like he understood, Munchie peeked inside and then disappeared into the box.
“I think this just might work,” his father said.
The squirrel hotel sat in the corner of Nathan’s room. All seven squirrels were nestled within. Nathan opened the lid slightly so he and his parents could look inside. The squirrels were all cuddled together in one big ball of fur and tails, surrounded by a pink towel.
“So cute,” his mother whispered.
“We better let them sleep,” his father said, and Nathan lowered the lid and softly closed it.
“Now that we have seven babies asleep, we have to get the eighth to bed,” his father said.
“I’m not a baby,” Nathan protested. “I’m almost eight.”
“And a very grown-up eight,” his father said. “Because now you’re like a parent to seven babies.”
His father picked up Nathan and carried him to bed. His mother tucked him in. This started their bedtime routine of his parents lying beside him and all three of them reading together. They’d hardly started the story when Nathan’s eyelids got heavy, and it looked like he was asleep.
Quietly Nathan’s parents got off the bed and turned out the big light, leaving the room with a little glow from the night-light in the corner. As they started to pull the door closed, Nathan called out.
“What will happen with the squirrels tomorrow?” he asked.
“They’ll be fine,” his mother said.
“Will they?” he asked.
“We’ll do the best we can,” his father said. “Day by day, we’ll do the best we can for them.”
CHAPTER FIVE
The squirrels scampered around the backyard as Nathan and his mother sat on the porch. They’d grown so much bigger in the past two weeks.
“You be careful up there, Scruffy!” Nathan called out as the squirrel jumped onto the fence.
“I still don’t know how you can tell them all apart,” his mother said.
“I still don’t know how you and Dad can’t. They’re all so different.”
Scruffy was missing a patch of fur on one side. Fluffy was, well, the fluffiest. Patches had a tiny patch of white fur on his right back leg. Bushy had the thickest, longest tail. Shiny had the brightest eyes, and Rocky had the biggest cheeks.
Nathan had named all of them except Rocky. His father had said it was sort of like a law that if you had seven squirrels, one of them had to be called Rocky. He also said that if they ever had a pet moose, he’d have to be called Bullwinkle. Nathan thought a pet moose would be pretty cool and agreed to the name.
And, of course, there was Munchie. He was the biggest and probably the oldest. They figured that’s why he had been strong enough to climb down from the tree by himself to get help.
Nathan, like a good squirrel parent, constantly looked around the yard for anything that could harm them.
“Have you seen Batcat today?” Nathan asked.
“Not today, not yet.”
The big cat was often there watching the squirrels when they were out playing in the yard.
“I guess it’s my fault that he’s around so much,” his mother said.
Nathan gave her a questioning look.
“Sometimes I used to feed him,” she said.
“Me too,” Nathan admitted. “Sometimes I still put scraps out for him in the back of the yard. That’s okay, right?”
“It’s hard not to like the old guy. You know, he even let me pet him once,” said Nathan’s mom.
“He lets me pet him too,” Nathan said. “Sometimes he even purrs, but it’s a strange purr.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s all gravelly and bumpy like his purr machine is broken.”
“That’s not surprising. Between his bent tail and missing part of his ear, I think he’s had a pretty hard life.”
“He’s sort of like our squirrels,” Nathan said.
“What do you mean?”
“He’s an orphan too. There’s nobody to care for him either.”
“The squirrels are lucky. They have you,” his mother said. She reached over to give Nathan’s hand a squeeze, but Nathan suddenly jumped to his feet.
“Munchie, look out!” he screamed.
A white cat was slinking across the grass toward Munchie, whose back was turned so he couldn’t see it coming.
Nathan had only run a few steps before the cat leaped into the air—and then there was a bolt of black as the white cat was knocked off to the side! It had been hit by another cat. It was Batcat!
The two cats hissed and screamed and snarled. Then the white cat jumped to its feet and ran away. Batcat chased after it for a few steps and then stopped as it leaped over the fence and was gone.
Munchie was safe. Or was he?
The little squirrel was bouncing across the lawn, right toward Batcat! The cat turned and sat down, and the little squirrel snuggled into him. Batcat raised a front paw and placed it on the back of the squirrel. He then leaned over and started licking the squirrel.
Nathan couldn’t believe his eyes. Neither could his mother. Slowly the two of them inched forward until they were crouched above the two animals.
“What’s happening?” Nathan asked.
“I’m not sure, but I think Batcat has become a father,” his mother said.
CHAPTER SIX
“Batcat!” Nathan yelled out. “Dinnertime!”
The cat came walking toward him on the top of the fence. A row of five squirrels hopped along behind him. Nathan was happy to see five squirrels but worried about the two who weren’t there.
“They say that seeing is believing,” his father said. “But I’ve been seeing it for four weeks, and I still don’t believe it.”
Since the day Batcat saved Munchie, each of the squirrels had decided, one by one, that Batcat was its parent. They rubbed up against him, followed him around and climbed all over him when he lay down. It was all pretty amazing. The big old tomcat with the bent tail and the missing part on one ear had decided he was the mommy or daddy to a bunch of squirrels.
Nathan put down a bowl for the cat, filled with scraps of meat from their meal. Then he put down a plate of nuts and seeds for the squirrels. All six animals came onto the porch and started eating.
Nathan’s mother pulled out her phone and started to take pictures.
“You have hundreds of pictures and dozens of videos already,” his father said.
“I know, I know, but it’s like you said, it’s so hard to believe that I want proof after it’s over.”
“Hello, Munchie, Scruffy, Fluffy, Rocky and Patches,” Nathan said.
“I still don’t know how you can tell them apart so easily,” his father said.
“I’m still not sure why you can’t. I guess I’m lucky I’m your only child, or you’d get me confused with the others,” Nathan joked.
“Kids are a little different than squirrels.”
“Not if you’re a squirrel…or Batcat. I wonder where Shiny and Bushy are?” Nathan said.
“I’m sure they’re not too far away,” his father said.
With each day, the squirrels had gotten
bigger. And their world had gotten bigger too. Once content to just stay in the backyard, they had now started exploring the whole neighborhood.
“This is the first time they haven’t all come home for dinner,” Nathan said.
“It’s a good sign. They’re getting more independent,” his mother said.
Nathan reached down and gave Batcat a scratch behind the ears. The cat pressed up against his hand and started with his loud, raspy purring. Nathan had come to realize that the old cat wanted to be pet almost as much as he wanted to be fed.
As the squirrels had begun venturing farther away, it seemed like Batcat was moving in closer. He would come when he was called and had even let Nathan pick him up. Sometimes, if Nathan was sitting on the deck, the cat would jump up onto his lap. Before, there had been days when they didn’t see the old cat at all. Now he never seemed too far away and spent most of his time in their backyard or close at hand.
The squirrels’ hotel had been moved out of Nathan’s room to the backyard. It sat on the corner of the deck. Each night as the sun went down, the seven squirrels would go into the box to sleep. Then Batcat would settle down, snuggled into a blanket placed on top. Nathan knew that with Batcat nearby, the squirrels were safe.
As they sat there watching the animals eat, two more squirrels scurried along the fence. It was Bushy and Shiny. Nathan was relieved that they were all right. Like all good parents, he worried about his children.
“How long do you think it will be?” Nathan asked.
“How long will what be?” his mother asked.
“Before they don’t come back at all?”
“I’m not sure, but I know it’s part of being a parent. You know that someday your children grow up and go away.”
“I’m never going away,” Nathan said.
“Yes, you will. To university and then to live in your own home and—”
“I have my own home. This one.”
“And it always will be your home. But you can’t live your whole life in our backyard either. Just promise that when you do grow up, you’ll come back and visit.”
“I’ll visit all the time. Do you think the squirrels will visit us sometimes?” Nathan asked.
“I’m sure of it,” his father said. “But let’s not worry about that. It’s just important to enjoy each moment along the way.”
The three of them sat back and watched as Batcat and the seven squirrels finished their meal.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Nathan walked out of the house and onto the back deck. After having spent most of the summer outdoors, it was hard to spend today, the first day of school, inside. It was good to be home.
He heard the screen door open and close. His mother appeared beside him.
“I don’t see any of them,” Nathan said.
“I saw a couple of squirrels this morning,” she said.
“Who was it?”
“They were at the far end of the yard, and you know I’ve never been able to tell them apart that well. It could have been other squirrels altogether.”
She knew he was disappointed.
“It could have been Munchie,” she said.
“I just hope they’re all fine.”
Over the last few weeks of the summer, the squirrels had been around less and less. And when they did come, they were more nervous around Nathan and his parents. They didn’t climb onto him anymore or even take food from his hands.
Then, one by one, they stopped coming for dinner and to sleep in their nest. First Scruffy stopped coming around altogether, then Fluffy. Rocky, Patches, Shiny and Bushy followed soon after. That left only Munchie. The first to come and the last to leave. Nathan’s father had told him that squirrels were territorial and that they all lived in their own area. Nathan hoped their yard was going to be Munchie’s territory.
“I know it’s sad that they’re gone,” Nathan’s mother said. “But you have to be happy that—”
“—we had them,” he said. “I know, I know. I am happy.”
Nathan heard the screen door open again and turned to see his father. He was home from work early.
“How are my two very favorite people doing on their first day of school?” he asked.
“I had a good day,” Nathan’s mother said. “I have a wonderful class. I’m going to enjoy teaching them this year.”
“And you?” he asked Nathan.
“School was good.”
“It doesn’t sound like it was good.”
Nathan shrugged.
“I don’t think it’s the school as much as the squirrels,” his mother said.
“I feel a little sad about that myself,” his father said.
Just then there was movement in the yard. It was Batcat. He’d jumped onto the fence and started walking toward them. For an instant they all waited, hoping the cat would be followed by seven little squirrels the way he used to be. There were none.
“It’s good to see Batcat,” his father said.
It was. The sight of the old cat walking toward them helped to drive away some of the sadness.
Batcat jumped down off the fence and onto the deck. He rubbed up against Nathan’s mother, then his father and then Nathan. He even let Nathan scoop him up into a hug.
“I think somebody is hungry,” his father said. “How about if we give Batcat his dinner?”
“I’ll go in and get it,” Nathan said.
“Actually,” his mother said, “your father and I were talking about it, and we think we should all go in and get his dinner.”
“All three of us?” Nathan asked.
“No, all four of us,” his mother said.
“Four? You mean…Batcat?”
“We were thinking that maybe he could eat his meals inside,” she said.
“And if he wanted, he could even sleep inside,” his father added.
“So he’d be like my cat?” Nathan asked.
“He’d be your cat. Your pet,” his mother said.
“That’s incredible!” Nathan hesitated. “Do you think he’ll come into the house?” Nathan gently put Batcat down.
“There’s only one way to find out,” his mother said.
“We’ll go inside first,” his father said. “We’ll leave you and Batcat alone.”
Nathan’s parents went into the house. It was now just him and the cat.
“I guess you heard them,” Nathan said. “Do you think you want to be part of our family?”
Batcat rubbed up against Nathan’s leg in response.
“You’ll still be able to go outside all the time,” he said to the cat. “You’ll be able to come inside to eat and even sleep inside…that is, if you want.”
The cat continued to rub against him.
“I wish you could talk,” Nathan said. “I guess there’s only one way to find out if you want to be with us.”
Nathan walked over to the back door and pulled it open. Batcat looked at him. He tilted his head to the side like he was trying to make sense of what was being asked.
“Come on, boy, it’s time for supper,” Nathan said.
Slowly Batcat came to the door. He stopped at the threshold and looked inside. He smelled inside.
Nathan bent down. “It’s okay even if you don’t want to come inside. You’re still my cat…or maybe I’m still your boy.”
Batcat rubbed up against Nathan. He purred that raspy, loud purr. And then he stepped into the house. Batcat was home.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
When I was about eight years old, my father and I found a starving baby squirrel at our back door. We eventually found seven squirrels, abandoned and orphaned when their mother was killed by a car. Helped by our beaten-up old tomcat named Batcat, we raised the litter until the squirrels were able to be independent. This story, as you can imagine, is near and dear to my heart.
ERIC WALTERS is the author of over 100 novels and picture books. They have won more than 140 awards in Canada and internationally and have been translated into 13 languages.
Along with his wife, Anita, they are the Canadian partners in The Creation of Hope (www.creationofhope.com), which provides for orphans in Kenya.
READ THE FIRST CHAPTER OF ERIC WALTERS’ SKYE ABOVE
Chapter One
Skye looked out the window of the plane. The clouds were thin and wispy. Below, she could just make out the green rainforest and brown fields. Little towns were visible, joined by black ribbons of roads. The horizon blended with the blue of the ocean. Skye had looked out the window the entire flight. She always did. She loved flying. Loved seeing the changing sky. Even when it was full of clouds, there were so many different types to look at.
Her father sat next to her, watching a movie. Skye had never understood why anybody would rather look at a screen than out the window. You could watch a movie in your living room. Of course, maybe her father had an excuse. He was a pilot and flew all the time. Her little porthole wasn’t much compared to the big cockpit windows he usually looked through.
A dinging sound announced that somebody was going to come on the pa. Skye knew who she wanted it to be.
“Good afternoon, this is your captain.”
Skye smiled. Her father gave her hand a little squeeze.
“We will be starting our descent into Costa Rica. I hope you have all enjoyed your flight. It’s a beautiful day, and we have a perfect Skye above.”
Skye laughed out loud.
“Your mother is talking about you again,” her father said. “Although I’m sure you’re not completely perfect…especially when it comes to cleaning your room.”
“I cleaned it before we left,” Skye said. Her closet, on the other hand, was a different thing completely.
Skye’s mother, like her father, was a pilot. It was on a flight that her parents had first met. It was also on a flight that they had gotten engaged. They had flown around the world together. And that’s why they knew that when they had a baby, they would name her Skye.
Flying had been part of Skye’s life since before she could remember. She traveled with her parents often. Everybody assumed that because both of her parents were pilots, her name was Skye, and she loved to fly, she would someday become a pilot too. Skye thought being a pilot would be great, but what she really wanted to be when she grew up was a bird.