The Golden Halo

I trotted in from the patio just as the night settled over the room. On the floor by the base of the tall brass lamp, someone had left an open woven wicker basket filled with rolls of soft yarn. Perched right on the woven rim was a hollow brass curtain ring. I crept over and nudged the heavy metal ring with my front paw. It wobbled, then rolled down along the rim with a soft, singing hum before dropping neatly over my long tail. I sat down right where the warm lamp cast its golden glow, watching the shiny circle gleam around me like a little golden frame.