Mooring Ring

Tucked inside the canvas tote bag for a breezy ride to Pushkinskaya Embankment, I heaved my round belly onto the broad, pale granite parapet. Wobble, scoot! Resting flat against the stone was a heavy cast-iron mooring ring anchored to a massive rusted bolt. Coo! Curious, I heaved my plush weight forward and nudged the thick loop with my snout. Clank! The chilled metal shifted with a dull, hollow thud against the granite. Chirp! With a determined push of my front flipper, I propped the iron curve up just enough to tuck my chin right over its rim. Peering at the sparkling river ripples, I let out a proud, happy coo.