A Gentle Warmth

I padded back inside from the front porch, clutching my pink bone securely beneath my arm. Right on the edge of the low ottoman rested a small hot water bottle tucked inside an oatmeal cable-knit sleeve. When I reached out a cautious paw and touched the wool, a deep, gentle warmth seeped straight through my fur. I leaned in and gave the ribbed side a soft nose-nudge. It was heavy, squishy, and wonderfully calm. I carefully slid my bone into the little crease beside it and leaned my side against the knit stitches. In the quiet room, it felt just like resting next to a sleepy friend.