Derpy's Snowy Adventure

The red shape by the porch fluttered again. It was Roomie's hat,

the one with the fuzzy pompom on top. Yesterday, it had sat neatly

on the hook. Now, it lay half buried in snow, bright as a berry

against all that white. Derpy tilted his head. "That shouldn't

be there," he thought. With careful steps, he padded over. The snow gave little sighs beneath his

paws. When he reached the hat, he sniffed it. Warm wool,

a hint of Roomie's hand cream, and sunshine from the window. He placed one paw

on the edge and tried to drag it toward the door. The hat barely moved. He tried again,