He Fought to Live: What a Chipmunk and Neutered Dog Taught This Busy Author Dad in the Backyard

Sometimes the funniest moments turn into the most sobering, and that’s exactly where the best stories are born.

This week I rescued another chipmunk from our pool.

At this point, it’s the rodents that are taking over m Bird Cam Diaries and seem to be the norm, not the exception. (From Day One, when I set up the solar-powered camera and the first bird to appear was a racoon, I’ve been seeing way more four-legged friends than feathered ones).

Shooing squirrels is one thing. But rescuing chipmunks from the pool is another. It’s usually quite simple. You run to get the pool net, with some gentle handling and a little coaxing, tragedy turns into triumph and off goes the the little creature back into the wild, with a whole new lease on life. Simple dad stuff.

Except this time wasn’t simple.

I had just returned from walking the kids to school and was turning the pool heater on when I saw him. The little guy was mostly submerged, treading water like I do, unsure which limb to move, less “egg-beater” and more “don’t drown”, his little nose barely out of the water. I ran and got the net and arrived in time before he went under.

It’s just that the dog was in the yard with me. That’s when I realized our playful, neutered, generally gentle Toby is still 99% wolf in the most primal way possible.

In a flash he had the chipmunk in his jaws.

But the second part of this unexpected rescue took place differently than I and my backyard angels expected. I took the chipmunk out of the gate to protect him from Toby and I let the little guy recover. He was soaked to the bone and shivering, but he walked, literally walked, right through the fence into Toby’s jaws.

You can’t really blame the dog.

But the neighbourhood heard my scream as I ran after my little pup to pry open his mouth. I had to chase him through the yard with the pool net like it was some oversized javelin.

Heart pounding, I got the tiny creature from the jaws of death and fended off the dog, finally grabbing hold of him and getting him inside so I could help the little chipmunk, again.

He made it. I released him again, watched him hide and breathe under a leafy weed on the edge of our green space, stood there watching him for a minute catching my own breath.

Nature is wild, surprising, and yes, even cruel.

One moment you’re enjoying the sunshine and bird calls of backyard life. The next you’re staring caught up in a nature documentary and something wild and chaotic is unfolding. Life gets chaotic and is sometimes heartbreaking,. And it’s always worth fighting for.

As an Author Dad, these are the moments that get written down. Not just for laughs, but for stories. I’ve been turning real-life moments with their unexpected joys and the chaos into faith-filled skits for churches across North America for years. Right now this moment is still in “rumination mode,” that quiet space where I let it sit, percolate, and wait to see what emerges.

Because there’s something here about protection and fighting for life. About remembering, also, the nature of what we are: a fierceness and strength even in the gentlest of us. About being a father who steps in when something small and vulnerable is in danger. I was reminded of that this week when circumstances in our health system forced my hand to write an op-ed to stand up for the vulnerable.

A God-given, essential drive to keep breathing, keep fighting, no matter what challenge or impossible we face.

My daughter recently asked “Do Stuffies go to heaven?” This week a chipmunk fought like heck to stay alive.

Parenting and life continue to serve up these fascinating juxtapositions. Hilarious one second, sobering the next. Beautiful and brutal at the same time.

I don’t have a tidy moral yet for this particular story. But I know this:

The stories that matter most often come from the place where laughter and yearning sit right beside each other. Real faith gets worked out there too. Not in the polished or perfect moments, but in the backyard, at bedtime, and in the middle of the mess.

So, I’ll rescue chipmunks.

I’ll remember what Toby is.

And I’ll keep writing it all down.

Because these small, chaotic, heartbreaking, hopeful moments are teach me.

What are you seeing in your backyard?

If you’re in the midst of your own beautiful mess (and who isn’t?)—raising kids, helping with the grandkids, navigating the challenges of life, simply trying to find meaning in the ordinary and the hard—you’re welcome here.

What’s a moment lately that’s made you laugh and ache at the same time? Drop it in the comments. I read every one.

Thanks for reading,

~ Andrew