The Polished Chestnut

My round feet patted softly across the cool flagstones beside the garden hedge. Tucked against the mossy stone border was a plump horse chestnut, newly slipped from its spiky green husk. I paused... tilting my head to inspect the glossy, rounded dome. Inching forward with cautious steps, I gave its dark mahogany shell a gentle nudge with my snout. It spun with a quiet, papery scrape, gliding in a smooth circle within a shallow hollow on the stone. The surface felt sleek and soothingly cool against my cheek. I nestled low, resting my plush side against its curved flank.