The Foam Ridge

A rolled foam exercise mat lay resting along the living room baseboard, forming a long, spongy barrier. Two alert beats to check clearance. I lowered my snout, sniffing the clean scent of textured rubber. The roll sat just an inch too tight against the wall. I squared my shoulders, braced my back paws against the hardwood, and drove my chest into the rounded flank with a resolute heave. The dense foam yielded with a muted creak, shifting just enough to carve out a sheltered lane. I squeezed straight into the narrow furrow, flanks snugly cradled. Chin resting comfortably over the curved rim, my evening watch is set.