A Fortified Foothold

Night brought me back indoors through the porch threshold. In the dim hallway corner, a heavy black rubber boot stood guarding the floor beside the ceramic umbrella stand. I did not bypass the flank. Planting my hind claws firmly against the hardwood grain, I lowered my jaw and leaned my full weight into the dense rubber heel. It resisted with a stiff, grippy squeak before yielding an inch into the skirting board. Secured. I braced my scaly shoulder against the boot's cold curve, anchoring this shadowed perimeter for the night.