Earlier this month while my family was camping at the Lair of the Bear, my scarf went missing. It was a small silk rust-colored neck scarf I wore on the day we arrived, something I inherited from Grandma Dickinson many years ago. I had laid it on my pants when I changed for bed and it wasn’t there in the morning. I looked and asked around but no one had seen it. I figured it was mixed in with someone else’s stuff and would turn up eventually. But it didn’t.
On the last day at the end of our camping week, during my final check that our tent was completely empty and clean, I moved the shelving unit where we put our towels and games. In the far corner, in a heap of shredded tissues and feathers, was my scarf. I guess that a mouse grabbed it when we were asleep and dragged it away. Surprisingly, there were no holes or stains. After being washed, my scarf looks the same as always even after being mouse bedding for a week.
Image Copyright 2012 by Katy Dickinson
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