Fig. 3.
Fig. 4.
The cage should never be less than two feet long, two high, and one foot wide. All should be thus particular about the size of the cage, because we hold it to be a cruel deed to take an active little creature like the squirrel from its fields and wide woods, where it can sport at will over unlimited space, and coop it up in a close, evil-smelling, little cage, where its only exercise can be obtained by driving a wheel round, and its wonderful faculty of leaping wholly checked. How much wheel-work would the squirrel do if it had the choice of a tree or a wheel for its exercise? Even in a cage, provided it be of a proper size, the little creature would not trouble itself to get into a wheel, but prefer clambering about the wires, and jumping from one side to another, in the exuberance of its activity.
Many persons assert that the squirrel is quite fond of the wheel, and delights in driving it; but they forget that the poor little creature is driven to that as its last resource for needful exercise; and it no more delights in pulling a wire wheel than the caged lion and tiger delight in their restless pacing of their dens.
The exercise of the powers with which it is so liberally gifted is essential to the health of the squirrel, and its health must suffer if it be not permitted to leap. Look at it in a tree, and just see what astonishing jumps the pretty creature takes; how it will spring fairly from the ground to the trunk of a tree, making a jump of some six or seven feet in length and four in height; how it gallops up the perpendicular stem, with its tail laid behind it, like a fox’s brush; how it scuttles up the branches, always contriving to keep the bough between itself and the spectator; and then how, when it has arrived at the topmost branch, and considers itself safe, it sits up in its own charmingly impertinent position, spreads its tail over its head, and looks down with a calmly supercilious contempt on the clumsy two-legged animal below, who cannot run up a tree, and has no bushy tail for a parasol.
No one who has once witnessed this sight could ever be guilty of such a cruel act as penning up a squirrel in a small cage, where it has no room to perform its pretty tricks; and if the reader cannot furnish his pet with a proper house, we earnestly dissuade him from keeping a squirrel at all.
Having prepared the house, the next business is to procure the inhabitant. Be ever wary of those wandering dealers who carry a squirrel about for sale in their arms, stroke its head, and put their fingers to its mouth to show its tameness. In almost every case the man is a cheat, and in many instances a cruel one.