A Fine Balancing Act

Finding a fallen white birch trunk stretching like an open promenade through the ferns was practically an invitation, doc. I hopped up onto the papery bark, took a lazy stretch, and noticed a dry pine twig pointing straight up into the noon light. Naturally, a little exhibition was in order. I casually flipped my carrot up by its green leafy plume, nudged the pointy orange tip onto the tiny pine branch, and watched it balance in mid-air without so much as a wobble. With my paws resting nonchalantly behind my ears, I leaned back against the bark and admired the whole sculpture. Who needs a gallery when the timber does all the hard work?