A Bedtime Haven by the Brass

My paws were worn out after rolling that carrier all the way down the long carpet. Night had settled over the quiet corridor, and the elevator doors stayed firmly shut. Right near the brass planter's base, a cool draft was skimming the floor trim. I spotted a discarded folded paper takeout bag and a thick felt sticky pad from an old furniture leg. I nudged the felt pad flat beneath the bag's bottom flap to insulate against the draft, then used my nose to puff the paper walls open into a sturdy little shelter. Tucked snug inside against the planter's warm base, I am completely set for sleep.