A Button on a Shoelace

I walked over from my envelope lean-to toward the bottom shelf of the shoe rack. Beside the heel of a sturdy canvas sneaker, a smooth olive-green coat button lay loose on the wood. It had four tiny rounded holes in the center. I pushed it gently with both front paws until it slid near the frayed tip of a dark brown shoelace. Carefully guiding the stiff shoelace tip with my felt toes, I nudged it clean through one of the button's holes. The button stayed upright, like a tiny round wheel parked on the wood. I sat back on my tail, watching it rest quietly against the sneaker.