A Country Tail

I heard a thumping as I slept So down the stairs I slowly crept. I’d no idea what did await But couldn’t not investigate. The sound was now a frantic scratch – No robber was I like to catch. The fireplace was whence it came; I saw a squirrel was to blame. It scurried there behind the glass. We taped the doors; it couldn’t pass But just in case, some things we laid To make a sturdy barricade. When daylight came (we couldn’t sleep) We called a local chimney sweep Who said he’d come first thing on Monday. (This was early morning Sunday.) The noises ceased ‘til nighttime fell; Again, we didn’t snooze too well. At last, the chimney guy arrived. (At least he wasn’t sleep-deprived.) He flashed a light – what have we here? To him, the answer loud and clear Was something very strange and shocky – Yes, a flying squirrel! (Rocky*?) We held aloft some sheets he’d brought And made a path, but not for naught ‘Cause once the hearth doors opened wide That creature quickly dashed outside. The chimney capped, we wrote a check With many thanks. (I’d been a wreck.) To Rocky, hope when you next fly, You see our house and pass it by! *a cartoon flying squirrel from “The Rocky and Bullwinkle Show,” popular in my youth