On Guard

The flat boards beneath me felt cool. I blinked. My right paw moved first, pressing down against the grain. I pushed upward with careful intent, shifting from a slump into an upright stance. Near my feet, a small pale streak marked the wood. It was out of place. I stepped forward, reached out, and gave it an earnest pat with my stubby paw to smooth it out. Order was restored. I remain on watch.