Instead of enlarging the burrow, Fred had managed to make it smaller. With no bedroom and Margaret hogging the living room, the only place left for the woodchucks to sleep was the kitchen.
One night of this was enough for Phoebe. “I really think we’d better try that cave,” she said the next morning.
There was a time when nothing could have enticed Fred away from his beloved burrow. But that was before he’d been squirted with dandelion juice, pelted with nuts, stung by bees, coated with honey, and buried alive in mud—before his beloved burrow had been converted into a dark, sticky, smelly pit of honey, berry mush, and mud.
Margaret hadn’t budged from the burrow since the night she’d seen the giant teddy bear with the big teeth, and she screamed as violently on being pushed out as she had the first time she was pushed in. She’d gotten used to it in there. She liked lolling around and being waited on hand and foot.
“We’re going to a nice new place, sweetie,” Phoebe assured her, setting the bowl on Fred’s head like a big cap. “It’ll be an adventure.”
Margaret didn’t like the sound of “adventure.” She didn’t like exercise either, especially now that her weight had doubled. She walked for a little while, then got tired and crawled alongside the woodchucks, whining as she went. She finally plunked down on her tummy in the shade of a quaking aspen and fell fast asleep. Try as they might, the woodchucks couldn’t wake her, so in the end they had no choice but to carry her. By the time they dumped her at the mouth of the cave, Fred couldn’t have gone another step.
“Hi, there!” said the squirrel, popping out.
“Hello,” Fred said, panting.
“So this must be your wife.”
“Phoebe,” Phoebe said.
“Nice to meet you, Phoebe,” said the squirrel. “Look, everybody, the human child!”
“Remarkable,” the skunk said, stepping out. “What’s its name?”
“Margaret,” Phoebe said proudly.
“It looks very well fed,” the skunk remarked.
“Doesn’t she?” Phoebe said.
“Have you come to stay?” the squirrel asked hopefully.
“Well, if there’s room, and you don’t mind,” Phoebe said, “we thought we might give it a try.”
“Fine with us,” said the skunk.
“Where’s the snake?” Fred asked.
“Out hunting, probably,” said the squirrel. “But I’m sure he’ll be delighted.”
Fred wasn’t so sure about that, and after helping Phoebe get Margaret into the cave, he stationed himself outside to await the snake’s return. Inside, the squirrel made such a to-do that the bats woke up and started flying in crazy circles around the cave. Phoebe was enthralled. Not just by the warm reception, but by the rock walls—no more cave-ins—and all the room there was for Margaret to grow in.
“Does she like nuts?” the squirrel asked. “I’ve got scads hidden.”
“She didn’t when Fred tried them on her,” Phoebe said.
“Did he shell them?”
“Is that what you do?”
After retrieving a nut from a hiding place in the back of the cave, the squirrel removed the shell with his magnificent front teeth and presented the inner kernel to Margaret. She made a face, touched the nut with her tongue, then stuck it in her mouth. She chewed and swallowed.
“More!”
“She liked it!” the squirrel said joyfully.
“I wonder if she’d care to try some of my bugs?” the skunk said. “I have a couple of fresh crickets.”
“That’s a very kind offer,” Phoebe said, “but I wouldn’t risk it.”
“What’s her favorite food?” asked Mr. Bat, parking upside down on the ceiling again.
“Raspberries!” Margaret cried, answering for herself.
“Staggering,” said the skunk. “She even speaks our language.”
Mr. Bat whizzed out of the cave and quickly returned with a ripe raspberry, which he dropped into Margaret’s hand like an expert bombardier. Margaret shoved it into her mouth.
“Thank the nice bat, dear,” Phoebe said.
“More!” Margaret cried.
At dusk Fred spotted the snake. But instead of slithering in his usual way, he approached the cave like someone lugging heavy baggage. And, indeed, he was.
“Are you all right, snake?” Fred asked, gaping at the huge swelling in the middle of his slender body.
The snake gave him a drowsy smile. “Never better,” he said. “You?”
“Well, er, I’m a little worried. You see, we had some problems at home, and we were thinking of moving in with you for a while—if you think you could stand it.”
“Fine, fine,” the snake said, smiling away.
The snake dragged himself into the cave, followed by a rather surprised woodchuck.
“Excuse me, squirrel,” Fred said. “But what’s with the snake?”
After giving Margaret another shelled nut, the squirrel looked around and saw the snake curling up in his sleeping place.
“Looks like a bullfrog,” he said.
“A bullfrog?”
“His favorite food.”
While the snake fell into a contented, digestive sleep, everyone else fussed over Margaret. Mr. and Ms. Bat flew out for berry after berry, the squirrel shelled nut after nut, and the skunk helped Fred and Phoebe collect leaves to make Margaret a comfortable bed.
Once she’d stuffed herself, Margaret plopped into her new bed.
“We won’t make a peep,” the squirrel promised. “Sweet dreams, Margaret.”
Margaret grunted, then started snoring. Phoebe whispered her gratitude to the animals and, following Fred into a secluded nook of the cave, curled up next to him for the night—as close as she could get without mussing his fur.