A Smooth White Pebble

I wandered along the edge of the courtyard garden path, where the gravel turns fine and soft underfoot. Tucked beneath the slatted wooden garden bench, a smooth white pebble lay half-buried in dark, damp earth. I took two slow paces forward into the cool shadow. With a gentle push of my broad snout, I nudged the stone loose from its muddy groove. It rolled clear, coming to rest with a faint click against a fallen birch leaf. The stone was cool and slick. I pressed my plush front paws against its curved surface, lowered my chin, and let the quiet garden rest around me.