A Woolen Hollow

I shook the damp evening chill from my fur as soon as the porch door clicked shut behind me. Resting on the low wooden hall bench, a thick ribbed knit beanie had slumped open into a deep, rounded bowl. I paused, letting the quiet warmth of the house settle over my ears. Moving forward with gentle hops, I pressed both front paws into the center. The soft wool gave way with a springy, cushioned sigh, cupping neatly around my chest. A fluffy pom-pom tumbled over the folded cuff, brushing softly against my whiskers. I nestled down into the warm fleece hollow and rested my chin across the ribbed brim.