A Soft Fold

I noticed the corner of a knitted throw slipping over the rim of an open basket. Pausing first, I listened to the steady hum of the afternoon before hopping softly across the floor. The wool smelled dry and warm. I nuzzled the chunky fringe with my snout, then tugged gently with both forepaws until a thick fold tumbled down, creating a little hollow just my size. I tucked myself right into the dip, resting my chin against the soft edge.