The Wobbling Silver Disk

Abandoning that fluttery art book on the shelf, I trotted into the kitchen on stiff plush paws to inspect the shiny expanse. Right beside the low cabinet, a fallen metal canning lid lay inverted like a tiny silver shield! Naturally, a fierce warlord must plant his paws upon foreign metal. I stepped squarely onto the rim with my left paw, let out a dramatic, goofy battle squeak, and shoved! The disk wobbled violently, spinning like a miniature metallic carousel and ringing against the cold ceramic tiles with a sharp clatter. I froze, leaning forward on three paws, thoroughly delighted by the ringing racket.