Free Batcat and the Seven Squirrels by Eric Walters Page A

He got to the end of the property and then jumped down and disappeared into the next yard.
    It was good that the cat was gone, but Nathan’s dad felt bad about chasing him away. He’d been secretly feeding the stray without his wife or Nathan knowing. What he didn’t realize was that both Nathan and his mother had been doing the same thing. There were lots of people in the neighborhood who were feeding Batcat. This was a cat that was owned by nobody but helped by many.
    Nathan opened the door just enough that he could slip out too. The little squirrel suddenly leaped off the screen and landed on his shoulder!

CHAPTER TWO
    Nathan almost screamed. His mother did scream. But there was no reason for either of them to be afraid. The squirrel was so little and light that it was like he wasn’t even there. He snuggled into Nathan, putting his little head under the collar of his shirt like he was trying to hide or burrow in.
    Almost instantly, Nathan’s parents were both standing beside him on the deck.
    “Are you okay?” his father asked.
    “I’m okay.”
    “Is he dangerous?” his mother asked.
    “No, I don’t think so,” his father answered.

    “He’s just a baby,” Nathan said. “And he’s scared. I can feel him shaking.”
    His mother gently pushed back the collar of her son’s shirt to take a closer look. The little squirrel looked up at her, and he did look scared. She felt sad for him—and protective. She was the only mother around right now, and this little guy did need a mother.
    “It’s all right, little squirrel,” she said. “You’re in good hands now. We’ll take care of you.”
    “We will?” his father asked.
    “What other choice do we have?” she said.
    “I’ve seen a lot of squirrels in the trees here,” his father said.
    There was a big tree right beside their porch.
    “I’m sure if we just put him in the tree, his mother will come back and get him,” he added.
    “I’m not so sure,” Nathan’s mother said. She hesitated. “I didn’t want to mention it, but there was a squirrel on the road in front of our house a few days ago.”
    There were always lots of squirrels on the street, so Nathan and his dad knew there had to be more to the story.
    “It was dead. It had been run over by a car,” she said.
    “But that doesn’t mean it was the mother of this squirrel,” Nathan said.
    “I don’t know if it was this one’s mother, but it was a mother. It was missing most of the fur on its tail.”
    Nathan knew what that meant. He’d asked his parents about it in the past, when he’d seen a squirrel with almost no fur on its tail. His parents explained how squirrels pulled the fur off their tails to line the nests for their babies. The fur made the nests warm and snuggly.
    “So you think this little guy could be an orphan,” his father said.
    “But what about the father squirrel?” Nathan asked.
    “Father squirrels don’t help raise the babies. He’s long gone, so if the mother is dead…well…”
    “Then he’d have nobody,” Nathan said.
    “That’s possible,” his mother said.
    “So if we just put him in the tree, there won’t be anybody to care for him. He could just starve to death,” Nathan said.
    “Or worse,” his father added.
    Nathan wondered what could be worse than starving. Then his father pointed to the back of the yard. There, at the far end, was Batcat. He had returned. He was sitting on the fence again, looking at them—well, really, looking at the squirrel on Nathan’s shoulder.
    “So we can’t put him in a tree, and we can’t leave him out. What else is left?” his father asked.
    “There’s only one thing we can do,” Nathan said. “He has to come inside with us.”
    His parents looked at each other like they were trying to figure out what to say.
    “I guess there’s one other choice,” Nathan said.
    “There is?” his father asked.

    “Yes. If he can’t come inside, then I’m going to have to sleep out here.”
    “You