Evening Quarters

I nudged my nose under the heavy fold of a folded wool blanket draped over the armrest. Coo... Night operations require a disciplined soldier to construct a warm winter dugout. Shuffling forward on my round belly, I burrowed deep into the narrow flannel tunnel until just my whiskers poked out into the dim room. A small red wooden button, fallen from a cushion, lay right by my flipper like a proud military insignia. I tucked it safely against my side and let out a soft, sleepy bark, completing the final post inspection.