weasels and vicodin

I wrote yesterday that my sister Karrie was helping to rescue a trapped baby weasel from my neighbor's garage. She elaborated on the story when she returned from her venture. Another neighbor , a fire fighter assured her that there were many wild weasels in our area, and the best thing to do was release it from the garage to the back, where it would most likely find it's family in some underground tunnel. This was quite a relief to her because she thought she would be bringing it to her house and adding it to her managerie of 3 dogs, 3 desert tortises, a 2 foot long iguana, and the wild deer that she fed from her bird bath. She managed to free baby weasel using thick gardening gloves and take it to the back of the house. It was brown with a little black mask around it's eyes. It was maybe 4 inches long. She said it made noises like a combination tree squirrel (not to be confused with a ground squirrel) and a small chirping bird.
Karrie then made sure we were all taken care of for the night, and headed up the 405 to her family of 5, not including the pets.

Meanwhile I took my meds, and headed off to bed. The air was cool, so I left my window open. I think I dozed for a little while when I heard a sound from outside that could only be described as a combination of a tree squirrel and chirping bird. The weasel! Was it scared? Lost? Had it's family abandoned it? I listened again, then called Colin and Mairin in to verify that it was not my vicodine making me hear things. They heard it too. Then they went to bed. After about 20 minutes of this sad chirping noise I tried to imagine what I could do to help. I thought about sneaking into my back yard with the cat carrier we had and trying to capture it,,,but was wary of being attacked by the entire family of weasels, I have heard they have big sharp teeth and eat bunnies. It also occured to me that if anyone saw me in my crazy looking bed clothes, and drains hanging from my sides, and my hair in rare poodle form, not to forget my wild, red, crazy vicodine eyes....yup...not a good sight.
My attempt at this mission, which never even began, was quickly aborted when I remembered the neighbor right below me was the one that shot the couger in his backyard, aiming into my backyard while I was out there with my dog, that early morning a few years ago.
So I said a little prayer for the weasel, and tried to fall asleep.

the end. this was a true story.

Nancy
I am now going out to see if I can find that little weasel in the daylight.
I hope he is OK.