The Shiny Spoon

I inched toward the low wooden garden bench and tapped the long handle of a shiny metal teaspoon. It rocked against the weathered cedar with a clear, tiny clink. I held completely still for three quiet breaths, waiting until the garden fell silent again. When nothing stirred, I peeked over the wide, polished bowl. Staring right back at me was my own round, fuzzy face with two shiny black eyes, curved upside down inside the silver cup. I tilted my head to the left. The reflection wobbled and stretched in the sunny glare. I tucked my paws close and rested my chin against the cool metal handle, admiring my shiny double.