The most interesting pet we ever had as children, and there were many, was a squirrel. 
We lived in central Illinois and had gone into the timber near the Vermillion River to look for
spring flowers.  Three young boys had gotten some baby squirrels, no doubt having killed the
mother and robbed her nest.  They showed them to us and my little sister just had to have one of
them so my Mother agreed to take one.  It was so tiny that it just fit into the palm of one's hand
and we had it for three weeks before it opened its eyes.  My Father didn't think we could raise it
as sometimes a wild animal will not take food but my Mother prepared a formula and fed the baby
every three hours, day and night.
	As the weeks passed the little squirrel became the pet of the household.  We bought a toy
doll bottle and it learned to drink its milk, holding the bottle in its front paws like a baby.  When
we ate, it went around the table over our shoulders for a handout from each one of us.  Or, if it
was outside when we were eating, it would climb up on the screen door, hang upside down and
"bark" at us until we let it inside.  My Father used to give the squirrel ginger snaps and, when it
had eaten all it wanted, it would bury the rest under a pillow.  My Father would get the cookie,
give it back to the squirrel and it woud bury it again, patting down the pillow with its front feet. 
When we gave it a grape or plum to eat, it would turn it quickly in its paws and the peelings
would fly, first from one side and then the other.  We really enjoyed all the things we learned from
this little pet.
	In the fall of the year, it disappeared and some friends in the country called and said the
squirrel was at their place in a walnut grove.  My Mother went out and brought it home but within
a week it was back in the walnut grove so we decided it was looking for companionship and let it
stay there.  However, we never forgot our little friend and the enjoyment it gave us.