The Wool Slipper

I found a thick grey slipper resting by the wooden chair leg. I stopped and gave my head a slow tilt. The wool rim was pressed shut. I lowered my snout and pushed against the opening. It resisted at first, stubborn and stiff. I braced my paws against the floorboards and pushed again, inch by inch, until the collar widened. Inside, the shearling lining was dense and dark. I tucked my front legs into the hollow and let my chin rest against the cuff. It held firm around me. A very sturdy spot for the evening.