To write about the squirrel Gyppy maimed
(Our dog, whose chief delight is chasing them)
A little squirrel untutored or too tamed,
The victim of an act I can’t condemn,
Is something, though, I feel compelled to do
To say I hope he might survive his hurt,
A small insult that resting can renew,
And learn next time what dangers to avert.
But if the worst has happened that I fear,
And he expires in the shelter of
The tree where I ensconced the little dear,
I sadly hope he knew he had my love,
And I bemoan that mandate which must end
The lives of all who to the earth descend.