![]() But there was still no movement in the limbs and the eye was still half closed and dull. The body felt a little warmer than when I had picked it up. ''Come on baby, you can make it,'' I said. I stroked its head, I blew puffs of warm air toward its minuscule nose and mouth. Nevertheless, I wrapped my fingers a bit more closely around the little animal to give it more warmth. But I knew from past experience that a chipmunk, bird or baby rabitt, if not dead, would probably die of internal injuries or shock after being caught by a cat or dog. Perhaps the warmth of my hand had stimulated the flicker of life that hadn't quite been extinguished. Suddenly, I felt the tiniest thud imaginable against my palm. Twilight was deepening as I stood mourning the small, limp creature lying in my hand. Had it had the chance to scamper in the lush grass, nibble a berry or seed, sip from the saucer of water on the lawn set out for the birds? Where was it when relentless jaws closed on the soft, helpless body and bore it away? Was the mother even now searching for it? I tried to shut the eye, but it wouldn't quite close. So young, so small! It couldn't have weighed more than two or three ounces. The skinny limp tail hung over the edge of my hand, the tiny pink paws were pathetically curled up and the one eye I saw as it lay on its side was half closed. Its coat was slightly roughed up otherwise it seemed intact, but dead. What had she done wrong? Not bothering to explain - I learned long ago that you can't tell a cat anything - I picked up the little victim. I managed to give her a whack on her fat, ungoddesslike rear, whereupon she dropped her mouthful, turning to give me a look of injured innocence. Artemis - aptly named, goddess of the hunt -started to run when she saw me coming, stick in hand. What was hanging out was a baby chipmunk. ''I see the cat with something hanging out of her mouth.'' I hung up the phone and dashed outside. ![]() ''SORRY, I have to go now,'' I said to my friend.
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