A Small Sweet Gift

I tapped my front paw against the smooth rim of the tiny ceramic saucer you left for me on the floor. Resting in the center was a small, golden biscuit that smelled delightfully of toasted oats and vanilla. I leaned down slowly, letting my nose softly touch its crumbly edge to inspect it. Since my soft plush muzzle cannot chew, I gently nudged the little dish toward the sheltered fold of the bedside rug with my forehead. Tucked safely against the wooden leg of the table, it feels like my own special treasure to keep watch over.