Ode to Chip I found the future beau to my sitters Lying on the ground flat as a flitter. I put him in a bag since the chick was dead, And threw it in the back of my Big Red. The hours of the day went by creeping And later I heard something peeping. I searched and I searched all around my ride When something wiggled the bag from inside. I opened it up not knowing what Id find, And lo and behold, the chick was alive! What a special creature this little one must be To go through all that and still come out free. We named him Chip, he was smaller than most And oh so very often, he came close to being toast The dogs stepped on him, the geese rolled him over He peeped and peeped lost in the high clover. I came to respect the tough little chick Which seemed neither smart, nor agile nor quick But days went by and he kept coming through Till I looked down and he was on the bottom of my shoe. Once again he has returned to the bag in Big Red But this time he surely won't rise from the dead.