I was replacing the telephone after a conversation and inadvertently knocked the cradle off my nightstand, sending my cat scurrying away in alarm. The cradle landed behind the nightstand, in that awkward space where the A-frame roof comes down to meet the floor.
I peered behind the nightstand and saw a dark cylindrical piece lying next to the cradle. I scowled. Evidently I’d broken the thing, too. Damn.
I hauled up the telephone cradle using the cord, then peered again at that broken piece. I leaned over the nightstand, reaching. I could barely brush it with my fingertips. I leaned further, scrabbling at it. It rolled away. Weird, to have a round log-like piece like that… I wonder where it fit on the phone cradle?
I fumbled around, grabbing at it, knocking it this way and that. Finally, with an oomph, I really seized it. Got a nice firm grip, squeezed it tight. Gotcha! No more rolling away from me!
Huh, it didn’t feel like hard plastic. It felt more… soft. Sort of squishy, actually. And warm. Odd that it would be so warm behind the nightstand.
I withdrew the piece into the light and looked at it, whereupon I made an unexpected discovery.
It didn’t come from the phone cradle.
It came from the cat.