Winding Down
I trotted back indoors and found a chunky wooden spool of yellow twine resting right beside the woven basket. One quick nudge with my nose sent it rolling smoothly across the hardwood, spinning out a bright thread behind it. I scampered after the runaway cylinder, pressing both front paws flat to brake it just before it reached the sofa fringe. Leaving a messy trail simply wouldn't do, so I guided the bobbin backward with my belly, winding the golden string snug around its wooden core inch by inch. Having the spool neat and round again makes the whole room feel settled.


