A Sheltered Night Burrow

Dusk rolled in over the garden patch, and my snout caught the scent of cool, dry cedar! Right past the clover was the underbelly of a sturdy wooden bench. Ha! A prime roof for the night! I trotted beneath the lowest crossbar and spotted an upturned metal watering can lying right against the wooden leg. One solid headbutt—bong! The hollow tin rang out into the quiet yard, echoing right into my open jaws! I nestled my rubber chin against the cool curve of the spout and settled onto the dry pine needles beneath the planks. Night shelter locked down!