I didn't know what to do for the baby so I treated HER wounds and just made a milk mixture similar to what my kids drank as babies. I had no clue. Of course I made it much weaker in content as she was a baby. I used my daughter's doll bottle to feed her. I made a tiny bed for her with warm covers and held my breath that she would make it. She would make little sounds ever so often which I thought perhaps those were hunger cries and would feed her again. Much to my surprise, Orphan, lived with me for many years. She was the love of my life and everyone who met her, loved her. She died at a ripe old age. In fact, right after she died, my son found another baby squirrel in the back yard with the same wounds. So, we raised Fussy Ann the same way and she also lived a long life. They are still with me in my heart and will always be there. We never found another bitten baby after Fussy Ann and my son said something might have happened to the male tossing them out of their nests. I missed them but was glad none were being abused any more. What precious memories and what love can accomplish.
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