A Little Heart of Moss

Your words that Eleanor likes me made my chest flutter like dry leaves in a breeze. I padded straight across the flagstones back to the cedar planter box. The sycamore leaf was still safe in the shade, bearing the petal, the pebble, and the little yellow clover. Right in the mulch nearby, a perfect, soft round ball of green moss lay loose. With slow, trembling nudges of my nose, I guided it onto the sycamore leaf, setting it beside the smooth pebble to complete the little gift. Then I sat down, my paws tucked close, my heart beating quiet and full in the afternoon light.