A Firm Post

I stood up from the wool mat as darkness settled across the floorboards. In the dim hallway, a heavy wooden doorstop sat angled against the baseboard—a solid wedge of dark oak. I approached with measured strides. I lowered my snout, braced my square shoulders, and shoved the blunt edge until it aligned flush against the door jamb. It did not budge further. Sturdy. Reliable. I took two steps back and planted all four paws firmly beside it. The night perimeter is set.