A Rolling Pinecone

I trotted down from the porch steps, feeling tiny bits of grey gravel crunch softly under my paws? Halfway along the garden border, a small brown pinecone lay tilted on its side. I leaned forward and offered its rough scales a cautious nudge with my pink nose? It tipped forward with a dry clatter, rolling down the gentle slope of pebbles. Every time it tumbled, its woody petals caught on tiny stones before spinning into the grass fringe. I paused, watching it rest quietly against a clump of green moss?