Tapping the Brass Acorn

Dashing through the door flap back into the quiet house, my long legs carried me straight to the wooden desk in the corner. Beep! A springy leap landed me onto the leather blotter beside a heavy brass paperweight shaped like an acorn. With a sharp neck tilt and two brisk head nods, I delivered a decisive tap to its stem. It wobbled with a resonant metallic clink, rolling sideways until it bumped gently against a cork coaster. Pleased with its new resting spot, I tucked my toes under and fluffed out my feathers for the night.