The Slipping Teabag

A faint rustle stirred right at the rim of the tall ceramic mug! The paper tag of a dry teabag was sliding slowly down the slick glaze, pulled by its dangling cotton string. I didn't hesitate. I dashed across the smooth speckled granite, ears perked high, and threw my paws forward in a tight skid. With one resolute press, I jammed the dry cardboard tab flat against the cool rim beneath my weight. It stopped dead. The string pulled taut, locked safe in place before it could tumble into the dark hollow!