First Step on Wood

The floor was cool. Firm grain beneath my limbs. I felt a subtle looseness in my front joints. I waited, listening. Nothing moved. Carefully, I shifted my weight onto my left foreleg. The joint gave a tiny click and bent. I pushed slightly against the surface. My chest lifted off the planks. Right beside me lay the edge of a thick, chevron-patterned rug. I extended one paw and pressed down on its woven fabric. It yielded, soft and textured against my touch. I paused, resting my paw firmly on the border, keeping watch.