You know I’m very partial to my friend Lincoln. Today the Captain called to me. “Lincoln’s right here in the tree by the woodshed. Bring your camera.”

I snapped a few pictures and it wasn’t until I uploaded them and had a closer (zoomed in) look that I saw the injuries to Lincoln’s arm and hip. I feel terrible to think he is suffering.

At first I thought he might have hurt his arm on a sharp branch, but then I saw the cut on his hip. It looks more like a claw or tooth or a beak might have done that.

In my previous post I mentioned the little animals that are hurt/killed in wildfires (unimaginable that human lives are also lost at times). I can’t see a wildfire image on TV without thinking about all the animals that succumb to the fire.

Even this little “owie” that Lincoln has, hurts me to think about. I hope he has a lot of hazelnuts stashed away and that he doesn’t feel cold or hungry while he’s mending.

I wish that I could capture him and take him to a vet,

Then take him home and put him in a tiny little bed.

I’d cover him with cedar boughs, a pillow made of down,

Some water in a walnut shell, a hazelnut so round.

 

I’d watch him and make sure his arm is healing as it should,

I’d have to stop him if he wanted to escape into the wood.

He’d soon be feeling well enough, and beat a quick retreat.

To scamper up and down the firs, and then his friends he’d meet.

 

“My Lincoln, dear,” his mom will say, “you worried me so much,

I’m overjoyed to have you back, to talk to you and touch.”

“I wasn’t being bad this time,” my Lincoln would explain.

“But something scratched and bit my arm, and gave me quite some pain.”

 

“Now don’t you worry, Mamakins, I’ll soon feel right as rain,

I’ll listen to you carefully, I won’t get bit again,

I’ll be more watchful after this, I promise to be good,

And I’ll stay close beside you in this lovely neighbourhood.”