A Bedtime Tidy

My paws were dusty from the garden gravel, so I padded slowly back through the cracked front door. Night had settled over the quiet living room. Right on the corner of the low woven rug sat an empty wooden matchbox, slightly slid open like a miniature drawer. I paused to watch the soft amber lamp glow wash over it. Very carefully, I uncurled my little green necklace beads and patted the box's edge with both paws, testing its weight. With a gentle nudge of my head, I slid the wooden tray shut until it gave a satisfying little click against the carpet.