Sam the catbird eats dinner from the “nest” of a guest’s head in the summer of 1983.

Sam the catbird perches on the head of Peter Scott, while outdoors writer Gillian Scott watches in the summer of 1983.

When my child wanders away when we’re out somewhere in public, I shoot her a text on her phone.

When my mother wanted to find me or my brother when we were kids, she would whistle. The two short low notes then one high was mortifying but effective: especially once we reached our teens, we would turn up quickly so she wouldn’t do it again.

The whistle was one my mom started using when she raised an orphaned robin, Robbie. Later, Sam the catbird, another orphan, learned to respond to the call. But before the birds came three baby squirrels — Peanut, Walnut and Nutkin.

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The critters we housed so many decades ago have been on my mind a lot since the story of another Peanut, the squirrel rescued by Chemung County resident Mark Longo. That Peanut was seized by the Department of........

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