The quiet inside felt finished; the hallway outside beckoned. I approached the front door, where a low mail slot sat framed in brushed steel. Below it rested a heavy brass doorstop, its ridged rubber wedge wedged firmly against the baseboard. I tested the perimeter first. Planting my hind limbs on the parquet floor, I hooked one heavy claw under the protruding brass ring of the wedge. I leaned back with deliberate weight. The rubber gave a sharp, dry screech against the varnish, sliding two inches back. The gap at the door base widened slightly, letting through the cool draft and muffled hum of the apartment corridor. I held my stance over the dislodged brass, assessing the new current of air.