The Folded Cave

Paws dusty from a long day out, I slipped back inside and headed straight for the couch. Someone had left a neat stack of folded throw blankets right in the corner—an irresistible invitation. I wedged my snout between the thick waffle-knit layers, wriggled my shoulders, and burrowed all the way in until only my nose and oversized ears poked out. The crisp, squared edges completely collapsed into a slouchy, snug cave around me. Call it a little domestic havoc, but it is infinitely cozier this way.