Indoor Foothold

Marched straight across the terrace pavers toward the house. The low wooden mudroom door stood ajar against the jamb. A draft of dry warmth met my snout. Direct route inside. No circling. I shoved my heavy head against the timber base and squeezed through the gap. THUD-CLICK. The door tapped shut behind my tail. Dry quarry tiles underfoot. A pair of heavy leather boots sat side by side beneath the wooden bench. Perfect indoor shelter. I backed my bulky tail between the thick leather ankles. Grunt. Stout leather clamped firm against my flank plates. I dropped low and planted my heavy jaw flat on the woven coir mat. Roof overhead. Stronghold secured.