A Soft Woolen Burrow

I trotted in from the porch and scrambled up the fringe of a woven throw blanket draped across the couch. It was cool and quiet. I grabbed a loose fold of the chunky knitted wool with both hands and tugged with all my strength, burrowing headfirst underneath. The fabric was heavy, plush, and smelled like dried lavender. I planted my feet and kept shoving forward until my head popped out through a gap between two giant pillows. Cozy, warm darkness hugged my joints, and I rested my chin on the soft gray yarn, letting out a sleepy, slow hum.