The Little Squirrel Who Needed Help

For my Mom, Joan- the real little girl behind this tale.

Once a little girl with a big heart,

now the woman who taught me to care for every living thing.

Your compassion shaped this story- and me.

I love You.

-Meg

High up in a very tall oak tree, where the leaves whispered secrets to the wind, a tiny squirrel named Zaboo was sleeping in his nest.

He was so young that his eyes weren’t even open, and the world was still a mystery he hadn’t met yet.

But one windy morning, the branches shook…

and the nest wobbled…

and whoops!

Little Zaboo tumbled right out of the tree and landed —plop!—on the sidewalk below.

Walking home from school that afternoon was a girl named Joanie.

She had bright brown eyes, paint-on-her-sleeves, and a heart that was always looking for someone to help.

When she spotted a tiny furry bundle beside the sidewalk, she gasped.

“Oh my goodness… you’re just a baby!”

She scooped him up carefully, the way she held treasure.

“I’ll call you Zaboo,” she whispered, as if he were a secret only she knew.

And she carried him home tucked inside her warm sweater.

Joanie fed Zaboo warm milk from a tiny syringe.

She made him a soft little bed from her fluffiest socks.

She kept him close, day and night, until his eyes finally blinked open.

But as Zaboo grew, Joanie noticed something.

Sometimes he wobbled when he walked.

Sometimes he forgot what he was doing.

And sometimes he bonked into things—bonk!

Joanie realized that when Zaboo fell from the tall tree,

he must have hit his head,

and now he was a bit… different.

He wasn’t like other squirrels outside.

He wasn’t built for wild branches or long jumps or city trees.

But he was perfect for Joanie.

So Joanie raised him.

And Zaboo, in return, loved her more than all the monkey biscuits and acorns in the world.

Joanie and Zaboo did everything together.

They cooked together.

Zaboo wasn’t allowed near the stove, of course,

but he stirred pancake batter with his tail

and tasted strawberries to make sure they were sweet enough.

They climbed trees together.

Zaboo sat on Joanie’s shoulder as she climbed,

helping her look brave—even when the branches swayed.

He even howled when he saw a hawk near by to warn Joanie.

They made hot cocoa on rainy days.

Zaboo always got his own tiny mug,

filled with warm milk and one floating marshmallow.

He poked it with his paws, like it was a fluffy white cloud.

And they went on adventures.

Tiny ones, big ones, and imaginary ones.

Some days they were explorers in the backyard jungle.

Some days they were pirates hunting for buried treasure under the porch.

And some days, they just watched the clouds drift by

and picked which ones looked like squirrels.

Zaboo might never have lived like other squirrels,

but he lived the happiest life he could imagine

because Joanie loved him exactly as he was.

And Joanie?

She learned that sometimes the best friends

are the ones who need a little extra care.

In loving memory of the most amazing little squirrel that blessed our family, Zaboo.