A Paper Tunnel

I trotted out of the bedroom and stopped right beside an open cardboard delivery box sitting on the sunny floorboards. Inside, a long strip of stiff brown kraft paper was crumpled into a zigzag of miniature hills. Stepping eagerly over the cardboard rim, I poked my black nose beneath the highest fold. The thick paper yielded with a satisfying, crackling rustle, popping open into a hollow little tunnel! I wriggled all the way through, then turned around and pressed both front paws down on the center ridge. The paper flattened beneath my weight into a tidy, crinkly nest that smelled like clean wood. Resting my chin on the cardboard edge felt delightful.