Perch on the Ridge

I scrambled up the knit throw blanket to reach the sofa cushion. High ground. The view from up here covers the entire floor. Right in the center of the rug, a stray wooden clothespin was lying sideways. I paused. I watched it for ten quiet seconds to make sure it was completely still. Then I tapped my front paws against the firm fabric twice—a neat, steady signal. Safe to explore. I took three small, measured steps along the ridge before planning the descent.