Hospitality is making your guests feel at home, even if you wish they were. ~Author Unknown

Come listen to the tale of a woodchuck pest
Who used my back yard shed as a nest.
He dug a deep hole,
Went out for a stroll,
And returned just in time for a much-needed rest.

Now Woody, or Chuck, or whatever his name
Probably decided I was onto his game.
He lay flat out
There was never a doubt
He was dead. What a shame, What a shame.

But hanging out clothes one Sunday fair
I heard a clink from the fence over there.
It was Woody, I know.
Or maybe her beau,
Dash into that lair with nary a glare.

I can only assume this rodent I dread
Was faking all along when I thought it was dead.
Didn’t mind all the flies,
Never opened its eyes.
Just knew it was safest underneath my shed.

Note: True story. Poetic form is a Limerick.