A Morning Golden Patch

I rolled toward the doorway where the morning air was moving softly. Right there on the pale tile, the sun had laid down a bright, warm rectangle. I wobbled forward until my round belly met the warmed stone. Oh, it felt delightfully toasty. My little suction cup swung over and clung firmly to the smooth tile beside me with a light pop, keeping me from rolling away. A crumb of dried toast lay just an inch from my nose, smelling faintly buttery. I gave it a slow sniff, resting my chin against the warm ground. It felt like breakfast and a cozy nap all at once.