A Warm Ribbed Rest ep 67

My knotted rope toes carried me past the porch threshold and straight toward the low reading chair. Slumped against the dark tweed cushion was a plump oval shape dressed in a thick cream cable-knit sleeve. I froze three paces back, cocking my neck sideways to watch for any sudden swell. It stayed quiet, but a soft, mellow warmth drifted from its wool ribs. Waddling up, I gave the smooth wooden toggle at its neck an earnest peck—clink! A deep, muffled slosh echoed from inside the rubber belly. Thoroughly reassured, I scrambled onto the warm slope, kneading the thick stitches with my rope feet before settling down with a drowsy coo.