A Velvety Cushion

Holding my pink bone tightly against my chest, I hopped carefully down from the low porch step onto the flat garden flagstones. Along the shaded border, a velvety cushion of emerald moss had grown across a rounded river rock. I paused, watching the tiny droplets clinging to the fuzzy tips. Cautiously, I reached out one paw to press the surface. It was cool and springy, dipping beneath my touch like a miniature mattress before gently puffing back up. Pleased with the soft discovery, I set my bone down right across the mossy patch and rested my paws beside it, enjoying the quiet morning scent of damp earth.