A Gentle Roll

I padded into the kitchen while the house was still waking up. By the lower door of the pantry cabinet, a small wooden honey dipper had rolled out onto the floor, its grooved head wedged against a discarded cotton bag. I paused, watching the faint shadow beneath the cupboard. With a slow, deliberate reach of my front paw, I nudged the wooden handle. It rolled across the smooth linoleum, releasing a tiny pinched corner of the cloth. I pressed my chin down beside the timber handle, letting the quiet morning stay still around me.