Batcat and the Seven Squirrels Read online

  BATCAT

  and the SEVEN SQUIRRELS

  BATCAT

  and the SEVEN SQUIRRELS

  ERIC WALTERS

  Illustrated by

  KASIA CHARKO

  Text copyright © 2016 Eric Walters

  Illustrations copyright © 2016 Kasia Charko

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be invented, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

  Walters, Eric, 1957–, author

  Batcat and the seven squirrels / Eric Walters ; illustrated by Kasia Charko.

  (Orca echoes)

  Issued in print and electronic formats.

  ISBN 978-1-4598-1255-0 (paperback).—ISBN 978-1-4598-1256-7 (pdf).—ISBN 978-1-4598-1257-4 (epub)

  I. Charko, Kasia, 1949, illustrator II. Title. III. Series: Orca echoes

  PS8595.A598B38 2016 jc813'.54 C2016-900532-1

  C2016-900533-X

  First published in the United States, 2016

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2016931876

  Summary: In this early chapter book, Nathan learns to care for seven orphaned baby squirrels with help from a stray neighborhood cat.

  Orca Book Publishers gratefully acknowledges the support for its publishing programs provided by the following agencies: the Government of Canada through the Canada Book Fund and the Canada Council for the Arts, and the Province of British Columbia through the BC Arts Council and the Book Publishing Tax Credit.

  Cover artwork and interior illustrations by Kasia Charko

  Author photo by Sofia Kinachtchouk

  ORCA BOOK PUBLISHERS

  www.orcabook.com

  19 18 17 16 • 4 3 2 1

  To Batcat

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  CHAPTER ONE

  Nathan looked up from his meal and out the window. There was something pressed against the screen of the door. It was pinned there, moving as the wind blew it back and forth, back and forth. He thought it was very strange how it was moving. Was it a black plastic bag or a piece of paper or…no, it was furry, and it had a tail, and—

  “It’s a squirrel!” Nathan yelled as he jumped up from the table.

  He ran across the kitchen. His father and mother were right behind him. He skidded to a stop at the thin screen door standing between him and the squirrel. His parents stood beside him.

  “It’s just a baby,” his mother said.

  Instead of running away, the little squirrel continued to cling to the screen. It tilted its head to the side and looked in at them as they looked out at it.

  “He’s so cute,” Nathan said.

  “He is cute, but what’s he doing here?” his mother asked.

  “Maybe he wants to come in and join us for supper,” his father joked.

  “Could he?” Nathan asked. “I’d share my salad with him.”

  “He should go back and join his family for dinner,” Nathan’s mother said. She looked at her husband, and he nodded in agreement.

  “Time to go home, little guy,” his father said as he gently tapped one of his fingers against the screen.

  Instead of running off, the squirrel climbed up the screen until it was at the spot where he’d been tapping. His father moved his finger and tapped at another spot on the screen, and the little animal followed after his finger.

  “So what do we do now?” Nathan asked.

  “We could close the door, and he might go away,” his father suggested.

  “That would be rude,” Nathan said.

  “But it’s not like we can bring him in.”

  Nathan leaned in a little closer to the squirrel. “He’s crying.”

  “I don’t think squirrels cry,” his mother said. “But I do hear something… it’s squeaking.”

  “He’s probably calling for his mother to come and get him,” Nathan said.

  Nathan’s father went to close the door and hesitated. He knew Nathan was concerned. “It’ll be okay, Nathan. I’m sure his mother will come and get him as soon as we close the door.”

  Nathan wanted to believe his father, but he was worried. He nodded his head ever so slightly in agreement.

  His father slowly started to close the door and—

  “Wait!” Nathan called out. “Look!”

  His father stopped. He hoped he’d see the mother squirrel. Instead, he saw what his son had seen.

  “It’s Batcat,” Nathan said.

  Batcat was a stray cat that roamed the neighborhood. Nobody owned the cat, so he didn’t really have a name. But Nathan had started calling him Batcat because while he was mostly black, the lower half of his face was white. It looked like he was wearing a mask—just like the comic-book character.

  “Do cats like squirrels?” Nathan asked.

  “Not in the way we’d like,” his father said.

  The big old cat sat on the fence. He was staring right at them—and at the little squirrel. His tail was swinging ever so slightly. There was a little kink in it where it had been injured at some time. His ears were pressed down. His left ear had a chunk that was missing.

  Slowly Nathan’s father opened the door. The squirrel clung to the screen as it swung out. His father walked across the deck toward where Batcat sat on the fence.

  “You have to leave now,” he said to the cat.

  Batcat didn’t move. This wasn’t a cat used to being told what to do by anybody.

  “Scat, cat!” Nathan’s father said and gestured with his hands.

  Batcat’s tail swished a little bit harder, and his green eyes blazed angrily. For a second Nathan’s father felt a bit uneasy, like he was walking toward a tiger instead of an alley cat. He knew that was silly, but still, the cat was staring at him so intently. What would he do if the cat didn’t leave?

  Then, as he got closer, the big tom turned and started walking away, carefully balanced on the top of the fence. He got to the end of the property and then jumped down and disappeared into the next yard.

  It was good that the cat was gone, but Nathan’s dad felt bad about chasing him away. He’d been secretly feeding the stray without his wife or Nathan knowing. What he didn’t realize was that both Nathan and his mother had been doing the same thing. There were lots of people in the neighborhood who were feeding Batcat. This was a cat that was owned by nobody but helped by many.

  Nathan opened the door just enough that he could slip out too. The little squirrel suddenly leaped off the screen and landed on his shoulder!

  CHAPTER TWO

  Nathan almost screamed. His mother did scream. But there was no reason for either of them to be afraid. The squirrel was so little and light that it was like he wasn’t even there. He snuggled into Nathan, putting his little head under the collar of his shirt like he was trying to hide or burrow in.

  Almost instantly, Nathan’s parents were both standing beside him on the deck.

  “Are you okay?” his father asked.

  “I’m okay.”

  “Is he dangerous?” his mother asked.

  “No, I don’t think so,” his father answered.

  “He’s just a baby,” Nathan said. “And he’s scared. I can feel him shaking.”

  His mother gently pushed back the collar of her son’s shirt to take a closer look. The little squir
rel looked up at her, and he did look scared. She felt sad for him—and protective. She was the only mother around right now, and this little guy did need a mother.

  “It’s all right, little squirrel,” she said. “You’re in good hands now. We’ll take care of you.”

  “We will?” his father asked.

  “What other choice do we have?” she said.

  “I’ve seen a lot of squirrels in the trees here,” his father said.

  There was a big tree right beside their porch.

  “I’m sure if we just put him in the tree, his mother will come back and get him,” he added.

  “I’m not so sure,” Nathan’s mother said. She hesitated. “I didn’t want to mention it, but there was a squirrel on the road in front of our house a few days ago.”

  There were always lots of squirrels on the street, so Nathan and his dad knew there had to be more to the story.

  “It was dead. It had been run over by a car,” she said.

  “But that doesn’t mean it was the mother of this squirrel,” Nathan said.

  “I don’t know if it was this one’s mother, but it was a mother. It was missing most of the fur on its tail.”

  Nathan knew what that meant. He’d asked his parents about it in the past, when he’d seen a squirrel with almost no fur on its tail. His parents explained how squirrels pulled the fur off their tails to line the nests for their babies. The fur made the nests warm and snuggly.

  “So you think this little guy could be an orphan,” his father said.

  “But what about the father squirrel?” Nathan asked.

  “Father squirrels don’t help raise the babies. He’s long gone, so if the mother is dead…well…”

  “Then he’d have nobody,” Nathan said.

  “That’s possible,” his mother said.

  “So if we just put him in the tree, there won’t be anybody to care for him. He could just starve to death,” Nathan said.

  “Or worse,” his father added.

  Nathan wondered what could be worse than starving. Then his father pointed to the back of the yard. There, at the far end, was Batcat. He had returned. He was sitting on the fence again, looking at them—well, really, looking at the squirrel on Nathan’s shoulder.

  “So we can’t put him in a tree, and we can’t leave him out. What else is left?” his father asked.

  “There’s only one thing we can do,” Nathan said. “He has to come inside with us.”

  His parents looked at each other like they were trying to figure out what to say.

  “I guess there’s one other choice,” Nathan said.

  “There is?” his father asked.

  “Yes. If he can’t come inside, then I’m going to have to sleep out here.”

  “You can’t sleep outside,” his mother said.

  “Then I guess there is only one choice. So he can come inside when I go inside…right?”

  His parents both smiled and nodded their heads in agreement.

  Nathan almost cheered out loud but realized that would scare the little guy. And the last thing he wanted to do was scare him any more than he already was.

  Just then the little squirrel let him know that he agreed with their decision as he crawled into the pocket of Nathan’s shirt.

  CHAPTER THREE

  The little squirrel lapped up water from the pan.

  “He was really thirsty,” Nathan said.

  “There’s no telling how long it’s been since he had anything to drink,” his father said. “I’m just glad he’s been weaned.”

  Nathan gave him a confused look.

  “Squirrels are mammals, and all mammals nurse from their mother. Because he’s been weaned, we know he’s older, and that’s good.”

  “It is?” Nathan asked.

  “Older means he has a better chance of surviving,” his mother explained.

  Nathan hadn’t even thought that could be a problem. Now he felt worried. “Should we give him milk then?”

  “Cow’s milk is probably very different from squirrel milk. If he’s old enough to drink, water is probably the best thing.”

  “He must be hungry too. What exactly do squirrels eat?” Nathan asked. “You know, besides peanuts.”

  His mother had opened up the laptop to google squirrels.

  “It does say nuts, seeds, fruits, pinecones, fungi and green vegetables,” she said.

  “And French fries,” Nathan added.

  “No, there’s nothing here about French fries,” she said.

  “I guess he doesn’t know that,” Nathan said.

  The squirrel had grabbed a fry off Nathan’s plate and was nibbling away at it.

  “He’s as hungry as he was thirsty,” Nathan said.

  “He probably hasn’t eaten for a while, but still, let’s be good parents and give him something a little more squirrelly,” his father said.

  He had a couple of peanuts that he placed upon the table. The squirrel dropped the fry and picked up one of the peanuts.

  “Way to go, Mr. Munch,” Nathan said.

  “Mr. Munch?” his father said.

  “I thought he needed a name. It could be just Munch, or Munchie.”

  “But only his closest friends should get to call him Munchie,” his father said.

  “I think we’re his only friends,” Nathan said. Then he thought of something. “When squirrels have babies, do they just have one?”

  “I’m not sure,” his father said.

  “I’m looking it up,” his mother said.

  Once again she started googling squirrel information.

  “It says that there are generally three to five in a litter,” she said.

  “So there might be two to four more babies out there, alone, hungry and thirsty,” Nathan said.

  “There could be,” his mother agreed.

  “Unless they come to our door, I’m not sure there’s much we can do about it,” his father said.

  “There has to be something,” Nathan said.

  “Short of climbing up every tree to look for nests, I’m not sure what else we can do,” his father said.

  “We have a ladder, right?” Nathan asked.

  “Yes, we have a ladder, but…” His father stopped himself midsentence. He knew the answer he was going to give wasn’t the right answer. “I’ll get the ladder.”

  There were five big trees and several little trees surrounding the yard. While any of those big trees could hold a nest, it made sense to search the one closest to the porch first. Besides, Nathan’s mother was sure she’d seen the mother squirrel in that tree more than the others.

  Nathan’s father stood at the bottom of the ladder, holding it secure while his mother climbed up. She was much more comfortable being high up than he was. She was the one who always put up the Christmas lights and cleaned out the eaves troughs.

  She climbed higher and higher, until she almost disappeared into the canopy of leaves and branches.

  Nathan, with Munchie sitting on his shoulder, stood just off to the side. Both of them were looking up at his mother.

  “Do you see anything?” Nathan yelled.

  “I can see that our roof is going to need to be replaced before too long,” she called down.

  “You know what I mean!” he said.

  “Nothing yet…wait.”

  As they watched from the ground, she climbed off the ladder and onto a large branch shooting off from the trunk.

  “Should you be doing that?” Nathan’s father asked.

  “I’m fine. Don’t worry. The branch is solid, and I’m holding on. Besides, it’s the only way I can get to the nest.”

  “There’s a nest! You found the nest!” Nathan yelled.

  “She found a nest,” his father said. “It doesn’t mean it belongs to Munchie and his family or that it’s even being—”

  Nathan’s mother made a strange noise. It was a combination of surprise and happiness. Before they could even ask what had happened, she began to laugh.


  “Are you all right?” Nathan’s father called as he peered up at her.

  “I’m fine,” she said. “Matter of fact, we’re all fine.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  In the end, there were six more baby squirrels. The first four had come out of the nest by themselves and had clung to Nathan’s mother’s shirt. With the last two, she had gently reached into the nest with her gloved hands and placed them in the pockets of her shirt. Those squirrels were the smallest two.

  Now they were all scampering around on the kitchen floor. Seven little patches of grayish red fur and shiny eyes. They kept returning to the pan of water to drink and to nibble from the bowl that was filled with nuts, seeds, berries and cut-up veggies. It was a combination of food from Nathan’s house and the bird feed set out for neighborhood birds. They all knew that squirrels seemed to like whatever was in bird feeders.

  “They seem okay, right?” Nathan asked.

  “They seem really good. I’m just not sure what we do now,” his mother said.

  “We keep them,” Nathan said. “You and Dad promised I could have a pet and—”

  “A pet is a dog or a cat. One dog or one cat, not seven dogs or seven cats. Squirrels are wild animals and need to be in the wild.”

  She could see how worried and upset Nathan looked. She placed an arm around his shoulder. “We can’t keep them, but we are going to try to raise them.”

  “Really?”

  “Really, but it’s not going to be easy, and it’s going to take a lot of time and a lot of work,” she said. “Are you prepared to work hard?”

  “I’ll work as hard as I can. I promise.”

  “And with school ending and summer vacation starting for both of us, we’ll have time to devote to them,” she said.

  Nathan’s father walked into the room. He was carrying a wooden box. He’d been in the basement, and they had heard him working with power tools, so they knew he was building something.

  “Ta-da!” he said as he placed the box on the table. “Here it is.”