We found a baby squirrel at a friend’s pig roast which appeared to have been separated from its mother. It didn’t roam far from its new homemade bed (fashioned out of a paintball box and cut-up t-shirt, complete with food dishes made out of soda bottle caps).
First thing it did was bite me to determine if I was edible. After that it tried to crawl up my pant leg to get to know me better. This marked the exact moment that the nearby onlookers decided their young children had seen enough and briskly shuffled away.
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