I meant well

I wrote instead of walking this morning, so at 7:30 I was headed out the door, dressed for rain, with December's rent check in my hand. There was something odd on the floor beside the elevator. After careful focusing, I realized it was a sleeping baby squirrel.

Wild creatures do make it indoors from time to time. And this was not the first time I had found a young squirrel sleeping in the corner of a door, although it was the first time inside. I dropped my messenger bag, removed my jacket, and pursued the now wary creature until I could drop the jacket over it and bundle it up. I had no illusion that releasing a lost baby animal outside would do anything except let it die a miserable death under a bush instead of in an apartment hallway. But what else can one do?

Once outside, I carefully opened my jacket next to one of the flower beds. An alert grey head popped out and looked around, not at all panicked. The little creature climbed down to the ground, nosed around, picked up a bit of vegetation and nibbled, then wandered off under the holly bush. And I had time to get a good look at it. This was not a normal squirrel. And it was not acting like a wild animal. With a chill of guilt, I realized that I had probably just turned somebody's lost pet out-of-doors.

A Google search on "pet squirrels" confirmed my suspicion that this was a Southern Flying Squirrel (see the picture above), and that they are a common pet animal. I am dreading coming home to a "lost squirrel" notice in the elevator. Poor little thing. I meant well.