The Shaved Coconut

I trotted down the sidewalk to get out into the midday heat, following a cool, nutty fragrance drifting from a fruit cart. Resting on a low wooden bench was a chilled young coconut, its dome freshly cleaved open with clear water sloshing against snowy jelly. Letting out a low, muffled grumble, I tilted my head and jabbed my sharp claws straight into the fibrous white rim. Thump-shrrrk! The spongy pith yielded with a wet crunch, splashing chilled sweet mist right across my face. I gave an abrupt, stubborn downward pry, peeling away a dense strip of husk that exposed the slippery, tender meat beneath.