A softer footing
My paws sank. The surface beneath was not timber or iron, but a folded gray blanket resting beside the cabinet base. I halted. The fibers compressed under my weight, yielding an inch before holding firm. I did not pull back. Lowering my front limbs joint by joint, I allowed the tension in my shoulders to ease against the weave. It holds without shifting. An acceptable place to stand down for the night.