A Firm Grip on the Spoon

My paws suddenly tingled with warmth. I blinked, and the soft fabric under my feet felt distinctly real. Most extraordinary of all—my right paw tightened around the felt spoon handle, not just holding it, but lifting its rounded bowl an inch higher into the air. I tapped the tip lightly against the smooth printed box behind me. A soft, muffled thud echoed back. I really can move, and this spoon is truly mine to steer.