Miro bursts from his pillow, paws skittering across the rug with a sudden, electric zoom.
He stretches every whisker to its limit under the bright square of sun.
He leaps onto the chair, but the cushion slides away with a soft whoosh.
He tumbles into a pile of laundry, shaking out a fuzzy lavender sock.
He looks very pleased with himself, holding the smelly sock.
Miro chases a dust mote dancing in the light, leaping over the bedpost.
He bats at the shadow until it vanishes, leaving him confused but giggling with a soft 'mrrp?'
Suddenly, a tiny green leaf blows through the open window, spinning like a helicopter propeller.
Miro’s eyes go wide, and he freezes, tail twitching as he prepares for the ultimate game.
Miro gently nudges the leaf toward the windowsill with one careful paw.
He curls up beside it, watching the world wake up.
The room is warm and quiet, and he settles into a happy, drowsy smile.
