The Brass Dial

A heavy brass hose nozzle lay coiled across the warm brick patio, its textured ring gleaming in the midday sun. I paused three paces away, waiting to see if the metal head would shift on its own. When it stayed still, I nudged forward until my front paw rested against the notched dial. With a firm, measured push, the ring rotated one notch and released a sharp, metallic click. I tilted my head, circled the nozzle twice to inspect the joint, and tapped it again just to hear that crisp snap echo against the bricks.