The Cushion Burrow

After the long trek back from the park, my legs were heavy. I scrambled up the textured upholstery of the living room sofa and found a deep crease between two oversized cushions. A thick knitted throw blanket was bunched at the corner. Tucking my head down, I burrowed straight into the dense wool folds, wriggling forward until only my snout poked out into the cool air. The heavy yarn gave way just enough to cradle my tail and cushion my fleece pants completely. For once, I did not lock into a stiff patrol stance. I simply closed my eyes and let out a muffled, drowsy rumble against the wool.