


The above are some Doug pics from yesterday. The first 2 are right before bed, curled up to the bottle in REM sleep. It was so cute but too dark to get a video.
Now for the mama thoughts:
Every time I approach D's box I prepare myself for the worst. As I watch him and see that he is indeed still breathing I breathe a small sigh of relief, wake him up, clean him up, and feed him. I've always done this. I expect the worst and hope for the best. Inevitably when I expect something good my heart is smashed into a thousand little pieces, so I just stopped doing it. It sucks to be hurt like that, and it sucks even worse when you realize you set yourself up for that hurt by putting your eggs in one basket.
It isn't just with Doug. I was like this when R was first born. I'm like this with Rew who has GI issues, boy do I make him mad when I touch him to make sure he's ok, lol. I'm like this with Gaelyn who is our oldest bunny at 6.5 years old. I hate loosing my animals. It breaks my heart to see them go, and I know I will always outlive them, but that doesn't make me love any of them any less.
Once, in high school, my Biology teacher brought a baby cotton tail (furred) in that his cat brought home. I took it with me for the day. I was utterly heartbroken when it died a few hours later.
So back to Doug. He seems to be doing good. He likes his food, I ordered some squirrel nipples for him so he doesn't have to keep licking off the syringe. They should be here next week sometime. He adores his new hot water bottle (as you can see in the pics), I like it because it retains heat better. He seems to have a bit of bloat so we've been massaging his tummy to get his gas out. Pinky got up the courage to feed him a little last night while I ate dinner, I'm so proud of him! I think he rather enjoys caring for the itty bitty. Maybe it's fatherhood that brought that about because he's always left the animal medical stuff up to me. Heck he's barely even a good assistant sometimes, lol.
I have recently been contacted by a wildlife rehabillitator from another state with some concern for Doug. Telling me the things I already know and have read. They keep asking what formula I am feeding him. I graciously avoided the question the first time. Now I am outright ignoring it until Doug is older. I do not need the added stress of "OMG you're going to kill him!" because of my feeding choices. If he were gonna die, I'm pretty sure he'd have done it already, considering it's been a week. Last night he was peeing up a storm, so he's definately hydrated. I'm waiting until he is a bit bigger, has some more fur, and is essentially thriving on my milk to respond to this person. It's a little sad, but in a way Doug is an experiment... can a baby squirrel/animal survive and/or thrive on human breastmilk? So far the answer is a resounding YES! Only time will tell and I know there are alot of people rooting for little Doug.
I decided to start waking up to feed Doug. I asked Pinky to wake me up sometime during the night when he wakes up, since he has the clock and all. So this morning I woke up at 4 to give him a little food. He has been loosing a little weight and I'm unsure if it was from the long overnight interval or the gas, so I just decided to feed him one extra feeding. I admit it is very difficult caring for him with R. It seems whenever his feeding rolls around she's either latched onto me or wants to be a pita about me taking care of him. In a few short years she'll be interested, right now she sees it as 'mama isn't paying attention to me'. *sigh*
Last night when I weighed D he was 26.7(?) grams. High 26's anyway. I didn't write it down because I was dissapointed (in myself mostly). I know that shouldn't stop me but I come down hard on myself when my animals/patients don't so as well as I like. Heck I cried when I came to work one day to find one of our patients dead. We did everything for her and she was not improving, but it still hurt me deeply.
That is all for now. I have a feeling R is going to wake soon.