Beside the Sturdy Pumpkin

I slipped through the crack in the front door, pattering down the stone steps into the cool morning air. Resting right beside the bottom step among dry oak leaves was a big, round pumpkin. I froze instantly, holding my breath to see if its heavy, curved stem might twitch. It stayed perfectly still, dotted with tiny beads of dew. Creeping forward on careful toes, I reached out with both green paws and touched its smooth, ridged rind. It was solid and cool. Leaning my forehead gently against its sturdy side, I breathed in the deep, sweet scent of garden soil and pumpkin vine. It felt wonderfully peaceful.