Testing the Mulch

The flat stone patio ended where dark mulch began. I halted at the edge. Lifted one front foot. Pressed downward into the loose chips. They gave way with a muffled crunch, then packed tight. Firm enough. I shifted my weight forward, low and deliberate. Stiff twigs and creeping clover brushed against the studs along my flanks. A thick strip of dried bark lay across my path. I did not turn aside. I braced my hind legs, squared my shoulders, and nudged it. The wood gave ground with a slow scrape, revealing cool, damp earth underneath. I planted all four feet into the hollow and stood still.