Now I admit to not being the best housekeeper in the world. Or the best grandmother. But if you found this under the edge of a chair when you finally got around to moving furniture to vacuum what would you think? A gift from a grandchild? And no, I have no pets who might have brought it to me. Just grandchildren. He's not "fresh" if you know what I mean. He's dried. Skeletonized. (Is that a word?) He's been there a while. There is always the option that he snuck in and couldn't get back out. But I prefer to think a grandchild brought him in and then forgot about him to thinking he could have opened the door and walked in when I wasn't looking. Wouldn't you?