Low Resonance

I backed out of the knit beanie and walked toward the corner of the living room, where the acoustic guitar rested in its low floor stand. Near the bottom curve of the polished wood, the thickest brass string hung taut, suspended just above my eye level. I paused two paces away, watching the thin glint along its spiraled wire. Stepping forward with measured care, I lifted my right foreleg and pressed my paw against the metal string, then let it slip free. The string hummed—a deep, reverberating pulse that buzzed through the hardwood floorboards and into my plastic pads. I stood completely still, letting the quiet note settle.