Silly Groundhog's Arc

Chapter 1 of 1

Silly Groundhog planned to nap for the whole month, and nothing would stop him. Groundhog Day could wait. The town could wait. If they needed him on the steps, they could stand around until he woke up. He fluffed his dirt pillow, closed his eyes, and grinned. Then the draft hit. Cold air slid through a crack in his earthen wall. It crawled down his neck and up his tail. He grumbled, rolled over, and stuffed his paws under his belly. The draft found him anyway. He woke cranky. He woke cranky again an hour later. By the third time, he sat up and shouted at the wall, "I am trying to sleep!" The wall did not care. His rounded burrow entrance let the wind curl straight down into his bed. Every gust yanked him out of the best part of every dream. A groundhog who wanted to nap all day could not nap for ten minutes. He decided to fix it. He crawled outside and gathered a big bundle of dried moss. The brittle strands scratched his paws, but he dragged the whole tangle back inside. He jammed clumps into the crack. He pushed moss into every gap along the packed soil. He worked until his arms ached and dirt covered his nose. He lay back down. The wind pressed against the moss and stopped. No draft touched his neck. Silly Groundhog smiled and drifted off. Then he shivered. The moss blocked the wind, but the burrow was still cold. Sealing the walls had trapped the chill inside. He could not nap in a cold room, draft or no draft. His plan had worked and made a new problem at the same time. He needed warmth, not just a wall. He climbed out again, cranky and determined. Near a neighbor's home he spotted a huge knitted quilt, folded thick, covered in red and gold and deep purple panels. Someone had left it out to air. It looked heavy. It looked warm. It looked perfect. He grabbed one corner in his teeth and pulled. The quilt barely moved. He braced his back paws and heaved. He dragged it across the ground one hard step at a time. He wrestled it through his rounded entrance and down into his bed. It filled half the burrow. Silly Groundhog burrowed under the thick knitted panels. The moss held the wind out. The quilt held his warmth in. He was toasty. He was cozy. He grinned into the dark and finally slept. But the quilt belonged to someone. And that someone would come looking for it soon.