“Poor little guy, he must have fallen from
That power line they always run along
Beside the street, chasing a frisky chum
Athletically until something went wrong—
He lost his grip and plummeted to ground
Causing some internal injury—
Then we came by and Gyppie, sniffing, found
Him in the leaves, still breathing, as you see.”
So I reported to our neighbor out,
Like us, for exercise, our morning walk,
And then we pondered what to do about
The injured squirrel, not simply gawk.
I fetched a little padded box and tried
To keep him comfortable, until he died.