The Rubber Watchtower

I marched straight past the back threshold and set my sights on an enormous yellow rubber boot resting beside the garden shed. An expert mountaineer knows a first-class observation turret when he spots one! Ho ho! I gripped the stiff rubber cuff with both trotters and gave an almighty heave to hoist myself aboard. Squeak-thud! The boot rocked sideways against the wooden siding, but my round belly proved delightfully wide, wedging me firmly between the boot's curve and the wall. Instead of fretting, I let out a hearty chuckle and let the sturdy rubber hold me snug. Propping my chin comfortably over the ribbed hem to watch the garden sparrows is thoroughly marvelous.