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