Chasing the sunbeam

The morning light hit the wooden floorboards with unreasonable enthusiasm. I dragged myself two whole feet off the fleece throw, purely out of necessity, to claim a warm patch of yellow sunlight spreading across the rug. Settled in, tucked my paws beneath me, and observed the dust motes floating lazily in the beam. Then, without asking permission, the sunbeam crept an inch to the right. Life is an endless series of relocations. I extended one arm, hooked the rug fibers with a paw, and hauled myself right back into the warmth. Crisis averted. Nap resumed.