My Friend Susan

My Friend Susan

By Ruth Fisher


My friend Susan is a pet lover’s nut,
She’ll latch on to any old mutt,
Dogs, birds, cats and rabbits,
She’s got it bad, like Elly Mae Clampett.
A little baby squirrel once caught her eye,
She jammed on the brakes to check the little guy,
Scooped him up and put him in the car,
Headed for home ‘cause it wasn’t too far.
The little baby squirrel acted kinda rash,
Thinking he’d escape up under that dash.
Sue arrived home with her brand new friend,
Little did she know t’was the start of the end!
She searched high and low just wondering where he went,
Was he under the seats or into a vent?
Food was put out to temp the little mite,
And then she had to wait for several nights.
By day three with her hopes still high,
The stench in the car was enough to make her cry,
The truth hit home that squirrely hadn’t made it,
And with each passing day, the aroma hadn’t faded.
Various scents were placed in the car,
Incense burners and coffee in a jar,
Nothing seemed to work by the end of a week,
Masks couldn’t cover the stench and the reek.
The next thing she knew, the flies started buzzing,
Prompting my friend to a’cursing and a’cussing,
“Will this ever end,” she ranted and she raved,
Thinking this all might send her to her grave.
Susan checked the “net” for a possible tip,
It said time would help her get a grip,
Patience not being Sue’s real strong suit,
She chucked it all in and jumped off a butte.
The moral of this I really must admit,
That I haven’t much to do but write this shit,
Don’t adopt squirrels in the hurly and burly,
Or you’ll finish like Sue and wind up squirrely!

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