Evening Bookmark Patrol

A colorful cardboard bookmark was jutting far out of a closed paperback on the lowest shelf, drooping toward the carpet. I jogged over to examine the clearance. If someone walked by in socks, they would clip the edge and tear the spine. I planted my front paws, nudged the paper flap flush against the pages with my snout, and tapped the corner square. Sector tucked and safe for the evening.