Picture this. My car is parked overnight in Georgia. The trunk lid is closed and locked as is the interior of the car. The next morning, I go out to get some tools to fix a toy, and everything in the trunk is just as I left it the previous evening, except that a roll of paper towels has been shredded and pieces of it are all over the place. There are two little wells on each side, down inside the rear fenders and they are covered by pieces of fiberboard and the carpet that covers the floor of the trunk. Down in those wells there is a large wad of shredded paper towers as if something was building a nest. There is a nest on both sides. I emptied the trunk of tools, a bottle of Windex, the remains of the paper towels, spare tire and jack. There were no cute little critters nor any sign that they had been there, other than shredded paper towels. I removed the shreds and put everything back. The next morning everything was in order.

This is not a fantasy, and I am not making this up. There was no opening where any critters could have gotten into the car, but there is a colony of chipmonks in a retaining wall about 20 feet from where I parked. Nothing like this has happened there before. And if you don't know why I carry Windex and paper towels in the trunk, you have probably never traveled in Georgia.

That's what I like about traveling. It's always something new and completely unexpected.
Howard