R.I.P.: Chip Munk

Blog 478:

Bright and early yesterday morning
Chip ran around and picked up loitered acorns on the porch
I fondly watched his tiny feet run to and fro
I tried to count his steps, but they moved so quickly
Counting them was vexing, so I gave up
And simply chose to enjoy that one rare moment with him
Tired perhaps of running about there and here
He sat on his behind and began cracking his find
Soon he voraciously munched a freshly dug nut
As if for him, there would not be another meal …

This morning in the backyard
I found him curled up among fallen leaves on the ground
He moved not, neither did he flinch
I nudged his back, but he just lay there
Cold … miserable … lifeless …
I wondered, “Was his meal yesterday scrumptious enough …
Or did it hurt badly his stomach, and it sickened him to death?”