Baby squirrel on my doorstep

 

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

 

I thought it was another dead rat until I saw it move. One of our outside cats has become quite a hunter and over the last few weeks has brought us a variety of carnage some feathered remains, some with the long tails of rodents. So seeing this one this morning when I put out food for the cats, I assumed we had received another dead rat as a gift. Then, I realized this gift was not dead, and figured I needed to put the poor beast out of its misery. I filled a bucket with water, retrieved my garden gloves and took down the dust pan from behind the bathroom door, intending to drown the beast.

When I got to the step where the cat had dumped the beast, I realized this wasn’t a rat at all, but a baby squirrel, fully formed, fur on its tail and a small puncture wound on its neck from where the cat had carried it.

When I touched it, the creature cried out, mouth opening in hunger, wanting its mother – just as the infant bird (we named Oscar Tweety) we found a few weeks ago had. The squirrel, however, was clearly stronger, even if its eyes hadn’t opened yet. I wanted to touch it the way I had the bird, to let it know it was in good hands. But I feared being bitten so put it onto the dust pan, and then went to get the animal carrier for the trip to the vet where I thought it could be put to sleep mercifully.

Along the way, I blew on it, and its tiny paws moved and its lungs took in the air as if just my breathing brought it the comfort it needed.

I felt terrible in some ways, showing up at the vet again to kill yet another creature. This was my third trip here in a month, once to kill a bird, once to kill a cat, and now to kill a squirrel (we named Zipper).

The vet, however, said the creature could be saved, and the staff there intended to raise it themselves, giving it antibiotics to start for the wound, and then milk to nourish. They asked if we wanted to take it home later, I said no. We have too much on our plate already.

As with the bird earlier, the squirrel had life in it, which needed to be continued, if not by us, then by someone. With its eyes closed, it would have died a slow painful death, alone, scared, unaware of what was happening to it. Then out of the darkness came a warm breath, and finally loving hands – my breath, but not my hands.

 

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Some people told me they liked my new Harvey film. For me it is another step in a long journey. Acting is difficult, and I’m not very satisfied with the product yet. Consistency from take to take is a problem. Even when I say the same words and act the same way, the tone doesn’t come out the same. How the pros manage it is beyond me, although I did better in this sequence of takes than I did previously so that I was able to use some of the other camera angles.

I’m also not yet able to imitate some of the shots I see in Crystal Skull (which I am using as a model for my current films) – where hand gestures, character movement and such play a remarkable role.

This is partly due to my reliance on green screen. I realize that I must get to “live” shots in order to advance.

 

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I watched the original Harvey again last night. Each time I see it, the more convinced I become that it is a perfect vehicle for Spielberg.

The humor is amazing – not just physical either. Some of my favorite bits involve language such as the misdirection. Dowd introduces the invisible Harvey to his aunt. His aunt is appalled. Dowd realizes it, goes back and tells her, he knows how this must have shocked her, saying Harvey always stares at people that way and no reason for her to get upset.

Another brilliant misdirect comes during the speech when Dowd explains how he met Harvey – a six foot four white rabbit standing under a street lamp and calling Dowd by name. This was not a surprise to him since almost everybody in town knew Dowd by name.

James Stewart was right also about the Veta character and the tight rope she walks in trying to be in both the real world and Harvey’s. Early on we are expected to believe she is like everybody else and thinks Dowd is crazy. Yet even then, she holds a door open for Harvey just like Dowd does, and in a dozen other ways acknowledges Harvey’s existence so that she turns out to be more like Dowd than the social order she is seeking to fit into.

This is very, very subtle stuff, and I’m not sure how Spielberg will handle it since the original movie script was co-written by the playwright, and gauging from what Spielberg has done in the past, he will find someone to rewrite the script for his new film, modernizing it as well as investing his own vision into it.

Speaking of which, I saw Always again – after having seen the original – and I come away with a much more positive impression of it. In fact, Always is a better film than the original. This suggests there might be hope for Harvey as well.