A Gentle Tap on Orange Plastic

A tiny warmth stirred right beneath my stitched chest. I tilted my head slowly, listening to the hum in the quiet room, and realized my paws could move. Leaning back against the bright orange tub, I reached out a soft grey paw and pressed the hard, smooth plastic rim. It gave a quiet, satisfying hollow clatter. I paused, testing the firm ridge under my paw pads, completely fascinated by the contrast between its cool smoothness and the soft blanket beneath me. I am awake, and this sturdy spot feels very safe.