I had no idea where to find his mom, and after calling around town in hopes of finding someone with a nursing rodent of their own that would adopt him (to no avail - no one would accept a wild stray), I decided I had to take care of him myself. Upon closer inspection, I discovered not only that he was a boy, but also succeeded in confirming my fears...a near microscopic cut on his wrist and nose, almost certainly from a cat. My hopes came crashing down; I had rescued this adorable little baby, only to discover that within hours, he would most certainly die from his cat saliva-infected wounds.
When he started suckling the creases of my hand, knowing he would die couldn't move me to leave him. I made him a warm bed in a tiny box and put him in the drawer next to my bed, and rushed to the pet store to buy puppy formula. I've been feeding him a few drops of formula from an eyedropper every few hours and then wiping his tummy with a wet washcloth until he uses the bathroom. I almost teared up when he let me clean him up and then curled up in the palm of my hand to fall asleep.
I haven't named him. It's not that I don't want to, it's just I know that if I do it'll be that much harder when I wake up tomorrow and find him gone. But at least I have the comfort of knowing he'll die in a nice, warm, soft bed with a full tummy.
