The Rubber Watchtower

Slipping back through the dark gate... paws damp from the alley moss. Resting right beside the screen door... a pair of tall, hollow rubber boots. Ssshh. Tiptoe, tiptoe... on quiet plush feet. Did they think they could guard the porch alone? I scaled the heel and leaned over the wide, dark rim. A deep, cool cavern swallowed the twilight. Tap, tap... my white knuckles knocked against the thick rubber. A dull, hollow thud rolled right back. Delightful. Truly delightful. I slipped inside and hooked both paws over the collar, letting only my wide eyes peek into the yard. Perfectly, deliciously still.