The Dry Doormat

Puschel stopped outside the front door and studied the doormat. It lay dry on the paving stones before the low steps. A golden leaf had blown right up to its edge. Puschel“When our winter guests arrive, I want their feet to know they’re welcome before they even reach the door.” Flauschi smiled. She had never thought about feet quite that way before.

Puschel bent down and checked one corner of the mat. It lay nicely flat. Then he looked at the door, the steps and the mat again. Puschel“Perhaps it needs a ribbon.” Flauschi“Down here, that would only get in our way.” Puschel imagined his own paw caught in a grand festive bow. No, that would not be a very good welcome.

So the ribbon stayed in the Christmas box. The little bell could wait on its soft cloth too. Today, the entrance needed no decorations. Flauschi“Dry, tidy and with room to walk is already welcoming.” Puschel ran a paw along the edge of the mat. Nothing stuck up, and nothing was trapped underneath.

He gently picked the golden leaf away from the edge and placed it with the other leaves to one side, well away from the steps. Not every leaf had to disappear from the garden. Puschel simply wanted to look carefully wherever someone would put their feet. Behind him, Flauschi waited until he had straightened up again.

Then Puschel took one very small practice step. Both feet stayed safely on the level ground. Puschel“Good afternoon, dear mat. I’m a guest.” He waved so politely that Flauschi giggled. Flauschi“Welcome. You can come in without doing any tricks.” Puschel nodded with relief. He would have needed to practise a greeting bow with his tail pointing forwards anyway.

He looked at the entrance once more. The mat lay before the steps, the steps were clear, and the door stayed closed during their rehearsal. Puschel“If it rains later, we’ll check again.” Flauschi“Exactly. Dry doesn’t stay dry all by itself.” There was no water there today. On another day, they could decide what was needed then.

Puschel imagined a friend standing outside the door one day: perhaps tired after the walk, perhaps with cold paws and a story in mind. That friend should not have to climb over their things before coming in. Leaving room for someone suddenly felt a little like giving them a present.

Puschel“We haven’t made anything, but we’ve still prepared something for Christmas.” Flauschi“A good beginning for arriving.” Puschel grinned and stood beside her. He had a little Wusel call for his guests, and now a clear way to the door as well. The mat said nothing. It simply lay there – exactly as it should.