Scrapefoot

Scrapefoot

In a large green forest stood an old stone house, so spacious that the animals called it Bear Castle.

In it lived three bears.

Big Bear was very big indeed. When he walked down the hall, the floor answered with a deep:

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Middle Bear was not too big and not too small. He liked everything in the house to be in its place.

And Little Bear was the smallest and the most cheerful. He had a favorite chair, a favorite bowl and a little white bed by the window.

Nearby, in a den beneath an old oak, lived a solitary fox called Scrapefoot.

Scrapefoot was a little afraid of bears. But his curiosity was even greater than his fear.

“What do they eat? What do they sleep on? Is there really a great hall in the castle? How many rooms are there?” he wondered whenever he passed nearby.

One day, the three bears went for a walk in the forest. Scrapefoot was wandering among the trees and, before he knew it, found himself outside Bear Castle.

He looked to his left.

Nobody.

He looked to his right.

Nobody.

He went to the door.

“I’ll just take a tiny peek,” he whispered.

The door turned out to be unlocked.

Scrapefoot opened it ever so slightly and stuck his nose inside.

Silence.

Then he put one paw in.

Then the other.

Then the third and fourth.

And suddenly he realized that he was already standing in the middle of someone else's hall.

“Well, since I’m here… I’ll only look around for a moment,” he told himself.

There were three chairs in the hall.

One was huge.

One was medium-sized.

The third was small.

Scrapefoot climbed onto the largest chair.

“Oh, how hard!”

He jumped down and sat on the middle one.

He turned to the right. He turned to the left.

“No. It’s uncomfortable.”

Then he sat on the small chair.

“Now that’s better! Soft, warm, and just right for me.”

Scrapefoot relaxed, leaned back and began to rock.

One.

Two.

Three.

Crack!

The little chair fell apart.

The fox jumped up.

“Oh dear.”

He tried to put a leg back on. It fell off.

He tried to prop the seat up with the backrest. The backrest fell down.

“Perhaps no one will notice,” Scrapefoot whispered, though even he could see how hard it would be to miss.

He saw three bowls of milk on the table.

“All this worry has made me terribly thirsty.”

The milk in the large bowl seemed too sour to him.

“Ew.”

He took two sips from the middle-sized bowl.

“Not for me.”

But the little bowl smelled of sweet, fresh milk.

Scrapefoot sipped.

Then again.

And again.

“Just a little…”

By the time he lifted his muzzle from the bowl, it was empty.

“Oh dear, number two,” said the fox.

Good sense should have told him, “Time to go home.”

But curiosity whispered: “What’s up there?”

And Scrapefoot listened to curiosity.

He quietly climbed the stairs and found a bedroom with three beds.

The first was huge.

The fox climbed onto it, lay down and immediately grimaced.

“Lumpy.”

The second was better, but the blanket kept slipping.

And the third, a small white bed, was so cozy that Scrapefoot only laid his head on the pillow for a moment...

...and fell asleep.

Soon the three bears returned home.

Big Bear went to his chair.

“WHO’S BEEN SITTING IN MY CHAIR?” he thundered.

Middle Bear looked at his.

“Someone’s been sitting in mine too.”

Little Bear froze in front of a pile of wooden parts.

“And someone… has broken my little chair.”

All three looked at each other.

Then they went to the table.

“WHO’S BEEN DRINKING MY MILK?” cried Big Bear in surprise.

“Someone’s tasted mine too,” said Middle Bear.

Little Bear looked into his bowl.

“And they’ve drunk every last drop of mine!”

Now the bears knew for sure: an uninvited guest had visited the house.

They went upstairs.

Big Bear looked at his bed.

“WHO’S BEEN LYING IN MY BED?”

“Someone’s been tossing about in mine too,” said Middle Bear.

Little Bear went to his bed, threw back the edge of the blanket and exclaimed:

“And he’s still asleep in mine!”

Scrapefoot opened his eyes.

Three bears stood before him.

Big.

Middle.

Little.

The fox sat up in an instant.

“Good morning... or evening... I must have gotten a little lost.”

“Lost?” repeated Middle Bear. “And you happened to sit in every chair?”

“By accident.”

“And taste the milk in every bowl, by accident?”

“It just happened.”

Little Bear crossed his paws.

“Did my chair break all by itself, by accident, too?”

Scrapefoot lowered his ears.

“No. I did that.”

The bears were angry. Very angry.

Big Bear frowned menacingly.

“Uninvited guests must be taught a lesson!”

Middle Bear nodded.

“He needs to remember that someone else’s home is no place for tricks like these.”

And Little Bear thought and said:

“It would be best if he fixed my chair and then left through the door he came in through.”

Big and Middle looked at each other.

“That’s fair,” they agreed.

Scrapefoot let out a sigh of relief.

They all went downstairs together. The bears brought glue, string, and a little hammer. Scrapefoot carefully held the chair legs, Middle Bear straightened the backrest, and Big Bear pressed the pieces together as gently as his enormous paws could manage.

Little Bear commanded:

“A little to the right… now to the left… there!”

Before long, the little chair stood whole again.

“I’ll replace the milk too,” promised the fox. “Tomorrow I’ll bring you a jug of fresh milk.”

“All right,” said Little Bear. “But now it’s time for you to go home.”

The bears opened the door.

Scrapefoot went out onto the porch, then turned around.

“I’m sorry. I truly only wanted to have a look.”

“You may look around when you’re invited,” answered Middle Bear.

“And if you’re very curious, you can knock,” added Little Bear.

“I’ll remember.”

And Scrapefoot ran through the forest so fast that his tail waved behind him like a red flag.

The next morning, a jug of fresh milk stood at the door of Bear Castle. Beside it was a little note:

“For the three bears, especially Little Bear. From Scrapefoot.”

From then on, the fox never went into someone else’s home without permission.

But sometimes he would come to the castle during the day and knock politely:

Knock-knock-knock.

And if the bears were at home, Little Bear would open the door and say:

“Come in, Scrapefoot. But today, no rocking on the chairs!”

And all three bears laughed.

And Scrapefoot laughed with them.

Because curiosity is a wonderful thing.

Especially when it does not forget good manners.

May this story leave a little light in your heart ✨