Mountain of Steps

My paws braced against the bottom carpeted riser. Chirp... the steps stretched up toward the ceiling like a giant cliff of woven wool! I crouched, wiggled my haunches, and sprang straight up. Scuffle, scramble! My front claws hooked the dense loops, hauling my rear pads up onto step one. Pause. Not high enough. With three determined bounding leaps, I scrambled up the incline, scrambling past the turn to reach the smooth oak landing. Looking between the spindles, the hallway rugs below seemed tiny—like little patches of moss. Chirp! The world looks completely different from high above.