A Bed in the Dish

Heading back from the greenhouse after dusk, my little feet were glad to find the living room quiet again. I scrambled up the soft knit throw draped over the armchair and padded across to the dark wooden side table. Right beneath the warm glow of an alabaster lamp sat a shallow, polished ceramic trinket dish holding two small felt furniture pads. I paused, resting my front paws on the smooth, cool rim to peer inside. It looked just the right size. Stepping in carefully, I turned once and settled my belly against the soft felt disks. Tucking my tail close around my feet, I rested my chin on the curved edge, letting the gentle lamplight keep watch over the room.