A Packrat's Holiday : Thistletoe's Gift

For the very young, and the young at heart!
Come meet one of the most industrious creatures of the
American Southwest-a small mammal from the rodent order of animals: the packrat.

On this cold winter's holiday eve, Thistletoe Q. Packrat sat in the parlor, his chin in his paws. The cupboards were bare. Poor Mama. There would be no holiday feast this year.

A sound like thunder rumbled in the distance. Rum-dilly, rum-dilly, rum. It grew louder . . . RUM-DILLY . . . and louder . . . RUM-DILLY, RUM-DILLY, RUM.

Mama Packrat held her ear to the burrow floor. "Law, if it ain't the sound of hoofbeats. The cowboys are on the move again, herdin' the rancher's cattle! No telling what vittles those wranglers are carryin' in their saddlebags."

Thistletoe daydreamed about the scraps of food left behind. All the fixins' Mama would need for a right proper holiday feast.

It wouldn't be easy. Finding the scraps and bringing them back home would be tricky. He had no idea ifhe could do it. He would have to try. That's all there was to it.