A Rolled Acorn

A tiny tapping sound on the porch steps caught my attention, so I decided to take my sleepy paws all the way down into the garden. Tucked beside a gray stepping stone sat a glossy brown acorn with its rough little cap still attached. It looked remarkably round, almost like a miniature snack. I nudged it softly with my snout to see if it would roll, and it wobbled across the smooth stone before settling in a warm clump of dry moss. The moss felt squishy and nice under my chin, so I laid right down beside my new smooth friend to watch over it.