What was the last live performance you saw?
This is Ma’am. She frequently does performative art. I’ve been feeding this squirrel for at least four years. Around Thanksgiving, she showed up with two huge masses on her face. She couldn’t eat, but she tried. I didn’t know what to do, but I knew she would die if I didn’t try to help her. I searched the internet for help and found a wildlife rehab nearby. The woman there told me to get the squirrel into a cat carrier and bring her over to her house via car.
I had the cat carrier, but I didn’t have much conviction that this would work. But I didn’t have time to think about how it would fail. I got the carrier out, put it on the porch and loaded it up with peanuts and blueberries. By this time, the squirrel had gone home and I waited on the porch to see if she would return. It was a matter of life or death. I’m not being dramatic – it really was. She came back, and got close enough to the carrier that I was able to push her in and shut the door. I called the woman and informed her that I was successful with the capture and I would be at her house within 20 minutes.
I expected the squirrel to get loose in my car and envisioned a horrific scene of torn upholstery, and a screaming driver with a squirrel on top of her head, but the squirrel was so good. She didn’t let out a peep and enjoyed the ride.
We got to the woman’s house, which is where she runs the rehab for wild animals, and I gave her my friend Ma’am.
I called the next day and inquired about my squirrel‘s face. Apparently, she had two pockets of infection. One had popped with some antibiotic treatment, but the other one needed more time. Ma’am was there nearly a month. I called every day, wanting to know how she was and if she could come home yet.
The woman was astonished that I would want to bring her home because usually people drop off wildlife and the woman releases them into the woods behind her house. But that’s not how I work. The squirrel lives here. She has a nest and a family and friends and a life here.
Remarkably, she got better. She never stopped growling at the woman who was helping her, but she became well enough to be released back to me. I was thrilled. I drove over to pick her up sometime around Christmas. She was quiet all the way home. I let her out of the box on the porch, where she usually eats, and she needed a few days to familiarize herself with her homebase. She came back in a few days, hungry and looking for snacks. I was worried she wouldn’t be as tame with me or as friendly, but I was worried for nothing. But I also didn’t want her to be as tame with me, I wanted her to have natural instincts to stay away from humans and to keep her wits about her out in the wild. 
As I compose this, it is May 9th, and I haven’t seen Ma’am in a few days, but that doesn’t really mean anything. A few times I haven’t seen her for a couple of weeks and she shows up unannounced. But once she’s here, everyone else must leave. She won’t have it any other way. (I have never seen an animal – besides my own cat, Susie – with such a will to live. I’m not sure what power charges that squirrel to keep living, but for Susie, I know it is love.)
Her face has healed up quite a bit since she got home, and although it may never be perfect, I tried my best to help an animal who badly needed it. I don’t regret anything, and I would do it all over again, even if the squirrel didn’t live.
Oh, there is a slight debate going on about whether the squirrel is a male or a female, although I’m almost 100% positive she’s a girl. I do know the squirrel growls at everyone and anything except me. She will fight off three other squirrels while she is eating walnuts (this is how a squirrel ends up with two pockets of infection on her face…). And I could swear I’ve seen her in previous summers with babies, but just in case, her name is Ma’am/Mr. Ma’am. It’s not important to me if the squirrel is a boy or a girl. What is important to me is that I help the helpless. I had to do it. She sought me out for help, and I couldn’t say no. I wouldn’t say no. So I said yes, and now I frequently have performative art on my front porch, which does include a sploot or two. May we all find kindness when we desperately need it. May we all be kindness when others need it. May we take refuge in the solace of nature when everything feels heavy and impossible. The animals are worth it. And the trees are worth it too, but that’s another post.
©️2025, itsamyisaid.com
“It's Amy,” I said. 