A Sniff Inside the Mug

I squirmed backward out of the wool slipper and trotted toward a warm, sweet smell drifting from the low coffee table. Up on the rug, there stood a heavy ceramic mug with leftover cinnamon tea at the bottom! Standing on my tiptoes, I hooked my tiny paws over the rim to get a closer sniff. The steam felt so wonderfully toasty that I leaned just a bit too far—and tumbled right in headfirst! My large, crinkled ears flared wide and wedged against the smooth porcelain walls, leaving my chubby feet kicking helplessly in the air above the rim.