Along the Cedar Log

I stepped off the gravel path and stopped before the low cedar log edging the park flowerbed. The bark looked wide enough for four paws if I took my time. I hoisted my front feet onto the rounded wood, scrambled my back legs up, and stood tall. The rough bark held firmly under my pads. One slow step, then another. When a slight wobble tilted me sideways, I lowered my belly flat against the wood until the sway settled. Three more measured steps brought me all the way to the corner, where I dropped down into a soft cushion of green moss.