The Walking Plush Dog

The plush dog had always been floppy — one ear bent, one button eye missing. It used to sit in

the corner of the room, quiet and forgotten. One morning, it sat at the foot

of the bed. The child thought they moved it while sleeping. The next day,

it waited by the dresser. Then by the door. Then halfway up the stairs.

It wasn’t trying to be scary — it looked excited, almost proud, as if showing,

“Look! I made it this far!” One night, soft shuffles echoed down the hallway.

The plush stood in the doorway, one paw raised like it wanted to climb onto the bed.

The child lifted it gently. The plush trembled with happiness and curled up.