Hallway Match

A tight bundle of rolled-up striped socks sat right in the middle of the hallway runner. I stopped two paces back. Watched. Waited. Not a twitch. Then, a buoyant spring forward and a solid tap with my snout! Whump. The sock rolled forward with a soft, heavy tumble, bumping along the woven fabric toward the linen closet. I trotted briskly after it, head high and tail perked. One final shove with my chest, and it tucked neatly against the baseboard. A very fine indoor match.