The Clay Wheel

A round terracotta saucer was leaning upright against the planter box. Thick clay. Coated in dry garden dust. I stopped. Stared. Skeptical... Was it going to wobble? I took two cautious steps forward, keeping low. Reached out. My paws pressed against the curved edge. Cool and rough. Then, a sudden jolt of nerve. I leaned my entire weight into it and shoved. The heavy disc broke loose, rolling forward with a low, grinding rumble across the flagstones. It plowed a clean furrow right through a patch of dry leaves before clunking softly against the lowest step. Perfect stop. I scrambled up and planted both feet right on top.