A Steady Pulse

I pushed beneath the bedroom door and stepped onto the dense wool rug. Near the foot of the nightstand lay a leather wristwatch, unbuckled and resting flat across the pile. I paused two paces away, taking its measure in the dim lamp glow. Stepping forward at an unhurried pace, I pressed my right front paw squarely against the round glass crystal. Beneath my plastic pad, a faint, rhythmic pulse tapped once every second—crisp and unwavering. I did not pull back. Locking my rear leg hinges with a quiet snap, I lowered my chest onto the soft knit and kept watch with the ticking.