The Woolen Cave

I slipped back indoors as night settled, leaving the dry autumn leaves behind to pad upstairs into the quiet bedroom. Beside the woven wool rug sat a sturdy grey felt slipper, its shearling collar propped open like a miniature cave. I paused, tilting my head to inspect the dark, curved hollow. Extending one front paw, I pressed the fluffy fleece rim to test its give; it dipped softly under my plastic weight before springing right back. Moving deliberately, I eased my front legs inside, followed by my hind quarters. The dense wool enveloped my sides in an immaculate, snug fit. Tucking my paws beneath my chest, I rested my chin against the warm cuff.