A Firm Foothold

Ground beneath. Solid. I blinked. My front paws pressed down firmly against the textured surface below. Across from me stood a tall, fuzzy brown figure on a backdrop. I did not rush. I tilted my head, taking in the perimeter of the pale vertical fence behind it. One deliberate step forward confirmed it: my joints moved under my own will. I set my weight down squarely and held my post.