The Silver Lever

A warm patch of midday light fell across the lower porch steps. Right in the middle? A weathered wooden clothespin, its metal spring glinting. I crept down one step at a time. Ears locked forward? Naturally. I braced both front paws firmly against the pine plank, tilted my snout, and delivered a brisk tap to the coiled wire. Snap! The jaws pinched shut with a sharp clack, hopping an inch across the grain! I held my ground without budging. When it stayed completely still, I gave it a firm push with my right paw, rolling it neatly into the shaded corner by the post.