A slow morning step

I stepped down from the porch planks and onto the damp garden path. The gravel felt rough and cool against my paws. A tiny, smooth pebble caught my eye, resting beside a cluster of clover. I nudged it forward with my snout, watching it roll slowly into the soft green moss by the border stone. Everything outside was wide and quiet. I settled my chin down against the mossy rim, listening to the faint chirp of a waking bird in the hedge.