A Firm Obstacle

The wooden floor was slick, cooler than the garden dirt. On my way back toward the quiet corner, a heavy runner rug blocked the corridor. Its curled corner rose high like a stiff ridge. I planted my hind feet firmly on the polished wood. I lowered my head and pressed my snout straight into the thick woven fold. It resisted at first. I pushed with my forelegs, steady and direct. The stiff corner groaned, flattened out, and let me trudge across.