The Man Who Helped the Chinchilla

And the sun rose up again, like any other day
The man continued his journey to the capital
It was the second day

Around the bend, the man looked upon a small thing
It was fuzzy and itty, and a bitty like rat-guinea pig
It was a chinchilla looking like it had chills
It's milky colored fur was ruddy red in bits and pieces
The chinchilla was wringed out of happy and food
And so the man picked the chinchilla up in a blanket wrap

In a small stream the man cleaned the thing
Its fur turned all golden and suddenly the chinchilla did sing
"My goodness, my God! A gleam! A gleams on my pelt!
What more I shall have? There's is a dish I wants
A dish with three pieces—
A meat, a wheat, and a glass of the creek of which I had felt!"

So the man took from his stores,
The best meat and the rest of the wheat
So for the water of the creek, he crept to the rocky shores
And leaned in all the too hot, very sticky heat
And gathered the sweet water from the creek
The man smiled as he found himself about to pour

This water the chinchilla did like,
And demanded of the man,
"More, more, I want mores from the pike!"
So the man kept going to the stream and back—each time a hike
All day fulfilling the chinchilla's water pan

At the sunset, the chinchilla laid on his back
With a straight lack of wanting anymore desires
And the man started to leave

The chinchilla stopped him and said with clear voice
"No, you must take me with you
I will need a new home,
And true, yes, I want one where they play the blues
All evening long while I'm combed"

On the man's shoulder the animal went
Satisfied, I guess that's what the thing was
No one could tell for holes in its pelt were dents in the furry fur

All the rest of the time and into the night
The man asked around for people who might
See the chinchilla and exclaim
"What a sight!"
And take him in to live in artificial light

All the while, the chinchilla searched for the perfect window sill
To get off this stranger's shoulder and then on something golder
With a dash and a secret, the chinchilla jumped with a thrill
The man never noticed that still
The chinchilla wasn't on him to spill
About its little life
Or all of its strife

And so the man kept asking
But every gentleman and lady he came by
Thought he was mad for there was no chinchilla basking
On his shoulder's hill

Finally the man found
The fickle chinchilla had fleed his shoulder's hill
And the man smiled freely
For he was fond of the thought of the creature finding a home
Where the people played the blues all evening long
While it was combed through each song

And the man grinned for a stretched while
And the second day to the capital
He had reached many more a mile