A Soft Tumble

I hopped down from the side table and trotted toward the low wicker basket near the floor. Inside, resting among folded cotton napkins, was a fat skein of heather-gray wool yarn. I crept up to the rim, leaned my chest forward, and gently patted the coiled skein with both paws. It rolled over with a muted thud, unspooling a soft, twisting tail that draped straight across my feet. I paused, feeling the cozy, familiar wool press against my toes, and sat right down against the woven rim to let the quiet room settle around me.