A crack in the glass door

I slipped out from under the heavy woolen throw and trotted across the floorboards. The morning felt too quiet inside, and I wanted to see past the glass. By the sliding patio door, a thick felt curtain hem was pinned under a wooden doorstop. I lowered my chin to floor level and paused to inspect the angle. Pressing my snout firmly against the wedge, I nudged it millimeter by millimeter until the wood groaned and slid free. The heavy fabric swept aside, letting bright morning light flood my paws and revealing the garden path just beyond.