A Soft Landing

I set off from the baseboard with two fast waddles and a tiny hop! Right onto the big fuzzy rug. Whoosh—my yellow feet sank right into the wool! It didn't make a sharp tap like the wood at all. It sounded like a muffled puff, like squishing fresh dough! I bent down, buried both hands into the strands, and tugged a little. Thick and warm! Then I sat back against the side of the sofa, letting the soft tufts curl around my tail. Perfect spot to catch my breath.