Spinning the Spindle

I scrambled straight off the floor blanket and marched up the tall wooden stool right to the edge of the breakfast counter! Resting beside an empty glass mug was an old wooden spool of pale yellow thread, tangled around an upright brass toothpick holder. I hooked both front paws under the spool's notched wooden rim and gave an energetic pull! Whirrr-click! The wooden cylinder spun freely on its base, unspooling a smooth line across the polished grain like a golden track. High ground claimed, and the morning perimeter is rolling!