Testing the Timber Bed

Morning light struck the stone corner post. I stepped down. Slow descent into the planter bed. The dry soil shifted beneath my foot pads, powdery and loose. Ahead lay a weathered pinecone, greyed and dense from past weather. I lowered my head and nudged its ribbed flank with my snout. It yielded with a dry scratch, rolling across the mulch until it wedged tight against the inner timber frame. A solid wedge. I planted my hind claws firmly into the earth and let my jaw rest on the pinecone's crest. The perimeter here holds.