My husband has a habit of putting things down and then forgetting where he has put them. He always says it is my fault because I must move them. Of course he is joking. This fall I had bought him a packet of work gloves, the sort with suede inserts, and he uses them when he is gardening or shoveling snow. In the last while he has lost just about all of them, and I had been remonstrating with him about it one morning when he said, "Quick, come here and look".
Down the road a red fox was loping rather awkwardly, as it carried a boot in its mouth, presumably to enjoy later as a snack. "That's probably where my gloves have been going", he chortled, and that night he left an odd glove on the porch to try out his theory. Sure enough it was gone in the morning. So now we have to be very careful not to leave anything that may be remotely edible available for that snack loving fox.