The White Tumble

A fresh barrier rolled right into my patrol line. A tight ball of white sports socks dropped off the edge of the laundry basket, rolling across the floorboards to stop dead against my claws. I did not flinch. I evaluated the mass. Still warm from the dryer. Perfect heat trapped deep within the cotton mesh. I planted my hind paws, lowered my snout, and drove my forehead straight into the clump. Heavy. Unyielding. I dug my front claws into the ribbed fabric, shoving with my whole chest until it rolled three inches onto my territory. Mine.