A burr in a rug

I swear to God this bloody thing is always there.
It's winter for Christ's sake - nobody goes out into the brush because guess what? There's no brush. So what is a burr doing in the house? In the upstairs, no less.
And it's somehow found its way into this rug's fringe, and I have tried to extract it using the force but unfortunately I'm afraid I may have to use my hands.
Or leave it for someone else to get. That's a good plan too.
After all, I'm not the one who put it there. I have a pretty sound alibi, too. I haven't been outside in Italy except car-house, house-car, or shouting "MOM WHERE ARE YOU" because she's obviously not inside, in probably 6 months.
I'd count that as a pretty good alibi, what about you?