My Friend the Game Warden

I'd just like to recommend that you get a game warden for a friend.  The game warden was one of the first people I met when I moved here.  You may recall (because you remember everything I ever tell you) that I had tea at his house before I even moved.  And that he takes his game very seriously.  And that he sometimes brings his work home. 
Well, this morning when I was visiting the game warden's wife (who will be known here from now on as the GWW) I witnessed the game warden at his kitchen table feeding a baby squirrel with an eye dropper.  And speaking 'squirrel' to the baby squirrel (who is named Pipsqueak).  And I had my camera with me and I so wanted to take a picture for you, but it just seemed a little blog crazy, but of course now I regret not getting a picture and I would like to go back for the next feeding and take a picture.  (Imagine Kronk--squeak, squeak, squeak, squeaker, squeaken**)   And I would take a picture of the GWW holding the squirrel, and one of it's little laundry basket bed complete with a heating pad, because the GWW is the kind of women who will make a little bed for a baby squirrel in her living room.  And I would take a picture of the GWD (game warden's dog) sitting at the kitchen table while the baby squirrel sits on the kitchen table.
I asked the STP if game wardens are federal employees.  Because I had this panic moment (because I don't have enough other things to occupy my mind) where I thought maybe they would be deemed 'non-essential' by someone in Washington.  And then who would feed the squirrel?

**You owe me a new acorn