I picked his pockets clean,
that is where he kept his nuts;
t'was winter, and times were lean,
had to do it, no ands or ifs or buts.
We met in the park one day,
he came there daily for his walk;
like clockwork, didn't change his way,
except one day he started to talk.
to me , I imagine, me-a wee-tiny squirrel,
we were meant to become fast friends;
love or like, t'was like a wind-a whirl,
a man, a squirrel-no other intends.
but one day there was no sign of him,
and sorrow invaded this squirrel's heart;
I started to worry, thoughts became grim;
up and down the path I started to dart.
I needn't have worried though, he was merely late,
a rival squirrel had vied for his nuts and affection;
jealous me , a stand off and I chased her out of the gate;
pilfered every nut,now I can't move for I'm suffering indigestion.
Adding your comment:
first the man and then chased her down as squirrels are known to do
s
This was really cute and reminded me of college days when I used to walk the parks picking up lovely gals with bushy tails. 
