When I was far too young to supposedly be accountable, we once found a baby squirrel abandoned by its mother and not in the best health. We took it in, built it a small cage and attempted to nurse it back to health. Though in a week it was much healthier, no one could manage to hold it without being bit. Why we did not set him free seems now very selfish, and a week later he died.
This story, though true, always seemed like a silly childhood fable. So, I'm here to set the record straight; the moral to this story is: Squirrels are better in gravy than they are in cages.