Claiming the Doormat

The heavy front door clicked open to air the hall, and I marched straight over the wooden sill. I have conquered the inside, so the outside had to answer to me next. Right across the threshold lay a thick, bristly coir welcome mat. Its stiff fibers looked rough and stubborn, like a thousand tiny broom bristles standing on end. That did not intimidate me. I stomped both front paws deep into the prickly texture. It gave a scratchy crunch under my plush weight. I planted my hind paws firmly and claimed the very center of the coarse weave. Cool hallway air brushed past my ears, but I held my ground without budging. The outside now knows who is in charge, because I am the Kitty.