A Notch Higher

From the side table, the woven fabric of the sofa looked like a steep, textured hill. I paused. I reached out one front paw, pressing into the coarse weave to test the resistance. The cushion dipped, then pushed back gently. Steady enough. I shifted my weight forward... one joint at a time. Halfway up the sloped armrest, my back paw slipped slightly against a smooth seam. I froze. I adjusted the angle, sinking my hard plastic pads deeper into the valley between fibers until they locked in. When I finally reached the summit of the broad, flat arm, the entire room opened out below me. Everything looks small from here.