Menagerie Manor

By Gerald Durrell

Still another creature that gave us a certain amount of trouble in the early stages was Millicent, the Malabar squirrel.

At first, Millicent was anything but tame, and would not hesitate to bury her teeth in your finger, should you be foolish enough to give her a chance. We came to the conclusion that she was just one of those animals which never become tame. But then a peculiar thing happened: Millicent was found one day lying in the bottom of her cage in a state of collapse. She had no obvious symptoms, and it was a little difficult to tell exactly what was wrong with her. When I find an animal suffering from some mysterious complaint like this, I do two things: I give it an antibiotic and keep it very warm. So Millicent had an injection and was moved down to the Reptile House, for this is the only place where the heat is kept on throughout the summer months.

Within a few days Millicent was recovering satisfactorily, but was still languid. The extraordinary fact was the change in her character. From being acutely anti-human, she had suddenly become so pro-Homo Sapiens that is was almost embarrassing. You had only to open her cage door and she would rush out onto your arms, nibbling your fingers gently and peering earnestly into your face, her long whiskers quivering with emotion. She liked nothing better than to lie along your arm, as though it were the branch of a tree, and in this position doze for hours if you let her.

Since she was now such a reformed character, she was allowed out of her cage first thing each morning, to potter around the Reptile House. Millicent very soon discovered that the tortoise pen provided her with everything a self-respecting Malabar could want: there was an infra-red lamp that cast a pleasant, concentrated heat; there were the backs of the giant tortoises which made ideal perches; and there was an abundance of fruit and vegetables. So the giant tortoises would move ponderously round their pen, while Millicent perched on their shells.