A Row of Polished Spoons

I waddled out from the hearth and fluttered straight onto the edge of the low dining table. *Bzz.* Beside a ceramic tea mug lay a loose handful of small metal stirring spoons scattered across a linen placemat. *Mmm.* I paused, admiring their cool, bright gleam against the woven beige fabric. Deliberately, I pressed my square plush snout against the round bowl of the nearest spoon, sliding it smoothly across the cloth. With patient, steady nudges of my face, I lined up three silver spoons side by side, their slender handles resting perfectly parallel. *Bzz-hum.* The neat, shining row looked wonderfully complete.