The Umbrella Runner

My talons carried me across the hardwood toward the entryway coat stand. Propped against the turned timber mast rested a folded black umbrella, its fluted steel runner caught crooked along the ribbed center shaft. I inspected the tiny spring catch beneath the metal collar. Planting my rear claws firmly into the floorboard seam, I hooked my golden foreclaw under the sliding steel ring. I did not strike it. Applying slow, measured upward leverage, I forced the ring against the resisting notch. It yielded with a crisp, hollow snap, locking flush over the brass tooth. The stretchers held rigid. My perimeter remains orderly.