When people ask if I’ve a pet
I always tell them no
And though statement’s true in fact
In fiction I’d say no
I’d keep a squirrel as a pet
To ride on my shoulder
And fetch me my office supplies
We’d make a lot of lore
I’d name Harold, Jim, or Bob
He’d have a little house
It’d sit outside up in a tree
Except when rain would douse
At that point he could come inside
And sleep up in my bed
Together we would listen as
It thundered overhead
I wouldn’t put him on a leash
But we could go on walks
I’d bring a couple nuts for him
To eat while I would talk
I think he’d learn to shake a hand
Or do a little flip
And if he had a squirrel girlfriend
They’d do a dance, he’d dip
They’d waltz across the moonlit grass
And jaunty with a twirl
They’d glide in circles through the night
Domesticated squirrels
Until that day it will suffice
To see them in the tree
Where they have joy despite the fact
They don’t belong to me