A Small Wobble

I rested my front paws on the cool edge of the counter. Beside a shallow ceramic saucer, a small metal spoon lay tilted on its bowl. I did not touch it right away. I watched the sharp morning glare gleam along its curved neck. Then... I stepped closer. I pressed down on the tip of the handle with one soft paw. It dropped with a clear, tiny chime—tink. The bowl lifted, then rocked back and forth against the porcelain, scattering a trembling crescent of white reflection. I stayed completely still until the silver went quiet again.