A Stamp on My Belly

I waddled down from the cedar wedge toward the mail counter, where someone had left a large self-inking rubber stamp resting on a stray envelope. Standing on my tiptoes, I nudged the sturdy plastic handle with both paws, but it was much too tall to push down. So I backed up, gave a merry little hop, and pressed my entire round tummy right against the springy top knob! Clack-thump! The base stamped down firmly, leaving a neat, crisp red star on the clean paper. I slid onto my bottom, giggling softly as the stamp sprang back up like a polite little machine.