Winding Down in the Folds

I squeezed through the door flap and hauled my tired belly across the living room rug. After rolling chestnuts and catching water drops in the garden all day, my flippers felt heavy. Right beside the armchair, someone had set down a fresh, folded waffle-knit blanket. I nudged my snout between two soft layers and wriggled forward with steady kicks. The cotton was wonderfully pillowy, hugging my round sides like a custom nest. Leaving just my whiskers and dark eyes peeking out into the quiet, dim room, I let out a long, contented sigh and finally let my body relax.