The neighbors downstairs do have a child–a bright little six year old called Mimi. She found me in the hall right where I’d “fallen” and scooped me up. She hugged me and told me all sorts of stories. It would have been perfect except for Xerxes. Xerxes is an Irish Wolfhound with a jaw made out of titanium.
Mimi and her father managed to free me before too much carnage had been wrought. Her father sewed up the hole in my leg and the one in my ear. All would have been well–but they put in me in the washer and the dryer. My fur will never be the same.