Heat-Seeking, Furry Missile

Standing outside at the crack of dawn, the same wind that used to feel like a mild chill now packs a punch that would make you fearful of an approaching ice age. Skies brighten by noon into a crystal clear blue, as pure and innocent as an illustration in a picture book, but the arctic temperatures prevent them from being enjoyed by any warm-blooded creatures. As my enthusiasm for this cold month slowly but surely began to deflate like a terminal helium balloon, I prepared to admit defeat and make myself a pair of gloves for insulation. Nothing complicated, time consuming, or particularly special, all that was necessary was enough junk yarn to tie up and stretch over my numb fingers.

Being such a simple task, I had figured that it would take only one or two sittings to complete, pushing aside other projects temporarily. Wanting already to get back to more interesting work, I hastily pulled out some old, forgotten skeins of yarn from the depths of my stash. Pulling my closet door shut, I paused midway through the act, having sworn I saw movement from within. Typically questioning my sanity, I was prepared to write it off when to my shock and horror, a random skein suddenly dislodged itself from the towering pile of yarn, causing a miniature avalanche flowing out into the room.

What sort of yarn demon have I been harboring all this time?! Panicked thoughts electrified my neurotransmitters like a power surge. Fearing the repercussions of my clearly neglectful storage this fiber fiend may be set to punish me for, I froze, staring wide-eyed at the source. It was then that I noticed a very large pair of grey ears poking up through the pile, and soon the owner with a pair of very round, blue eyes was staring back at me.

Carefully composing myself, I realized that this poor creature had only been trying to escape the exact same cold that had driven me to my stash. Knowing that he had been caught fair and square, the mournful look of resignation across his face cut into my heart strings. There was no way I could kick him out into ghastly temperatures still plummeting outside with a clear conscience – He had even less of a coat than I to keep the heat in! Reaching next to him and picking out a skein he seemed to have become fond of, I contemplated this dilemma, and saw that I had the solution right in my hands.

There’s nothing like a sturdy pair of mittens to fight off the chill, as I’m quickly learning. Fashioning a pair for him in minutes, his expression softened considerably and he gratefully accepted this token, trying them on instantly. They fit like… Well, a glove! Still, I’m not so naive to think that all he needed was a pair of gloves and then send him on his way again, so now he can keep warm without huddling inside my stash all day, but he’s free to stay until the cold front breaks a bit. It could be months, but that’s a small price to pay for a new friend.

3 thoughts on “Heat-Seeking, Furry Missile

  1. So many kinds of cute :) At first glance I mistook the mittens for boxing gloves, which reminded me of the poem about the mouse who drank Guinness:

    Some Guinness was spilled on the bar room floor
    When the pub was shut for the night.
    Out of his hole crept a wee brown mouse
    And stood in the pale moonlight.

    He lapped up the frothy brew from the floor,
    Then back on his haunches he sat
    And all night long you could hear him roar:

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