A Woolen Horizon

I wandered over to the far wooden edge of the sofa armrest. Below it sat a tall canvas basket stuffed with rolled-up knitted scarves. I looked down for a few quiet moments, watching a thread sway softly in the gentle morning air. It looked like a staircase of thick wool loops. Very slowly, I nudged my front legs forward until my round belly tipped, sliding gently down into the dip between a grey rib-knit scarf and a dusty rose wool throw. The wool felt firm yet bouncy under my hooves. Nestled right in the crevice, I found a completely new place to rest.