From Ruff to Buff
Ruffing, I raced out of the porch door at lightning speed. With the ease of a professional, I hurtled myself into the garden and ignored the bushes that were always in the way. I could take the pain. But I was utterly unprepared for the sight I met next. The scoundrel’s bushy tail, scuttling out of my reach! I stood still, catching my breath. He wouldn’t get away with this again. Tomorrow, my training began.
“Benny! Benny! Benjamin Hasson, drop that this instant!” My faithful trainer Mom cheered, chasing as I dragged a weight around the house. She sounded angry, but I knew that was just her way of motivating me to run faster. It was heavy, and the going was hard, but I knew what I was fighting for. That squirrel had another thing coming.
Wait. Squirrel? SQUIRREL!
Dropping the weight, I dashed to the backyard, paw pounding after paw. Leaping through the bushes with a mighty battle bark, I — I–
The squirrel escaped. I failed.
I slunk back into the house, dripping with self pity. But, to my surprise, I was greeted by applause!
“Next time, pup,” Dad was saying. He sounded proud. I licked his clapping hands, and then his face, too. He scratched behind my ears and I did a victory dance. And although the squirrel was still on the loose, I’m pretty sure I won.
Well, I got a treat, anyway.