The snake peered into the bedroom. It was entirely filled by a softly snoring creature with neither fur nor scales.

“Ah, the human. I see you tried some of the food I mentioned.”

Fred moaned. “All she does is eat. She’s twice the size she was.”

“What happened to your furniture?”

“Broken. Every piece of it.”

“You look kind of broken yourself, woodchuck. Have you been eating enough?”

Fred glanced wistfully at the kitchen. “I try. But I don’t seem to have any appetite.”

“Maybe it’s the smell.”

“Charming, isn’t it.”

“Where’s the wife?”

“Out getting goat’s milk.”

“Keep feeding the creature and you won’t be able to get her out of the bedroom.”

“I know, I know.”

“Didn’t I tell you to get rid of her?”

“Yes. But Phoebe loves the brute.”

The snake decided against asking if the woodchuck’s wife had a screw loose, and since he had nothing else to say, he slipped away. Being cold-blooded and selfish by nature, he was mainly annoyed at losing the mouse, but once he was coiled up on his favorite sunning rock again, he couldn’t help feeling a bit sorry for the foolish woodchuck. To get married—and then, on top of that, to take in a human being!

A few days later, while hunting on the edge of the woods, the snake crossed paths with the squirrel. The squirrel started jabbering away as usual, but the snake simply tuned him out, as was his habit. They lived in the same cave, along with a skunk and a pair of bats.

After a while the squirrel gave the snake a nudge. “Isn’t that your friend?” he said.

The snake looked around and saw the woodchuck stumbling toward them with a honeycomb in his paws and two bee bites on his snout. “Acquaintance,” he said.

“He looks awful.”

Squirrels are warm-blooded and have softer hearts than snakes, and when Fred got closer, the squirrel volunteered to carry the honeycomb. Fred blinked blearily. He was so drained he’d virtually been sleepwalking again and hadn’t even noticed the two animals. If they’d been foxes, he would have been dinner.

“No use two of us getting all sticky, squirrel,” Fred said. “But I appreciate the offer.”

“Still getting squeezed out of house and home?” the snake asked.

Fred nodded despondently.

“We could put you up,” the squirrel said. “We have tons of room.”

“I couldn’t possibly impose,” Fred said. “But it’s kind of you to offer.”

“You haven’t even seen the cave,” the squirrel said, relieving Fred of the honeycomb. “Come on. What can you lose by looking?”

Fred, who didn’t have the energy to protest, traipsed along after the squirrel. The snake trailed after them to protect his interests, not at all sure he liked the idea of more roommates. But he needn’t have worried about Fred, who took a few steps into the cave and immediately started edging back out. It was big, but damp and messy, and there was a skunk in residence. As if a squirrel and a snake weren’t enough!

“Skunk, this is a friend of snake’s,” said the squirrel.

“Good afternoon,” the skunk said, swishing her impressive tail. “Are you from these parts?”

“More or less,” Fred said. The cave was on the far side of the hill where Phoebe’s mother was buried.

“Remarkable we’ve never run into each other.”

“The truth is, I didn’t used to cover much territory. Though nowadays . . .”

“He’s being squeezed out of his home,” said the squirrel. “Don’t you think he should move in with us?”

“It’s not just him,” the snake hissed.

“You have a family, woodchuck?” the skunk asked.

“There’s my wife and me,” Fred said. “And, at the moment, a human child.”

“Human?”

Fred nodded grimly.

“Remarkable!” said the skunk.

“That’s one word for it.”

“We never see human beings over this way.”

“Well, they’re not much to look at.”

“Is that so?” squeaked a voice overhead. “We’ve flown over them, but we can’t really see.”

Fred stared up at a pair of wrinkly black creatures who were hanging upside down from the cave’s ceiling.

“Sorry to wake you, bats,” said the squirrel. “We have a guest.”

As soon as Fred had been introduced to Mr. and Ms. Bat, he took the honeycomb off the squirrel’s paws. “Thanks so much for having me over,” he said, anxious to escape this zoo. “But I’m afraid I’m due home.”

“You just got here!” the squirrel protested. “Don’t you like it?”

“Do stay,” said the skunk.

“Would you like us to fly out and get you a snack?” asked one of the bats.

“You’re too kind,” Fred said. “But I really do have to get this thing home.”

The honeycomb prevented him from shaking paws, so he simply bid the cave dwellers good-bye. As he tottered away, he heard the friendly squirrel sigh—but a second later he was pretty sure he heard a hiss of relief escape the snake.