A Soft Fold

I waddled slowly along the floorboards toward the thick fringe of the woven rug. A knitted throw blanket had drifted down from the sofa cushions, pooling in loose, heavy folds. I paused, watching the still ridges of yarn in the lamplight. Gently, I pressed my paw against the weave. It sank into a deep, pillowy dip. I climbed up into the shallow hollow between two folds, turned around once to find the softest bend, and settled down into the warmth.