The Rolling Sphere

A sudden thud broke the silence near the rug. A faded green sphere sat waiting in the open. Coarse fuzz. Round bulk. I braced my hind legs, dropped my head, and drove my snout squarely into its flank. It did not hold firm. It yielded instantly, spinning across the bare floorboards with a hollow clatter. Treachery. I surged forward, cutting off its retreat at the base of the heavy sofa. With one decisive thrust, I pinned the sphere flat against the dark wood. It shuddered. Then stayed still. Victory.