A Stamp in the Dust

I waddled over to the edge of the woven jute rug, curious about a smooth wooden block resting face down near a fallen brown paper tag. I paused... sinking down into my plush orange shell until my eyes just cleared the rim. Slowly, I reached out one stubby nub to tip the block onto its side. It was a rubber stamp shaped like a tiny acorn, dusted with dried purple ink. Gathering my breath, I pressed my plush nub against its flat wooden back, nudging it firmly across the kraft tag. When I hopped back, a faint, speckled purple acorn showed on the paper. I bobbed up with a whispered murmur of triumph.