The Terracotta Saucer

I scrambled out of my cozy felt slipper and trotted straight through the cracked front door into the brisk morning air. Over by the wooden railing sat an empty terracotta plant saucer, caked with dry garden soil. I tilted my head sideways and gave the rim an immediate bump with my black snout. Scrape! It smelled of sun-baked brick and old rain. Bracing my hind legs on the porch boards, I heaved my chest against the curve. The heavy clay rasped across the wood, leaving a faint orange streak before lodging firm against a railing post. I climbed right over the rim, planting all four paws squarely in the gritty red dish. Completely anchored.