The Taut Hoop

I padded in through the cracked front door after the long walk back from Coventry Market, shaking the evening chill from my joints. Over on the low footstool sat a round wooden embroidery hoop, propped against a sewing basket with stretched cream fabric clamped drum-tight inside. I hopped onto the woven stool, pausing to tilt my head at the colorful stitched sunburst in the center. Stepping close, I gave the taut canvas a firm tap with my right front paw. It let out a neat, muffled pop that hummed straight through the wooden rim. Resting my chin against the curved birch frame, the quiet room finally settled in.