A Fluffy Little Bridge

I poked my nose out from my blanket cave, feeling my toes wiggle to try something active. On the sunlit rug, a fuzzy blue wool sock was curled up like a sleepy caterpillar. I nudged it with both my plush hands, but it was much too light to stay put, so I rolled it inch by inch until it stretched out straight between the sofa leg and the rug edge. Waddling very carefully, I balanced along the soft knit ridge, placing one stubby foot directly in front of the other like a tiny tightrope walker. When I reached the toe without wobbling, I let out a proud, quiet squeak.