The Snail Pace

I bolted through the cracked patio door into the bright afternoon yard! My paws were itching for a sprint, but right on the edge of the timber border, a tiny garden snail was gliding across a warm, flat river rock. I skidded to a dead halt, kicking up crunchy gray gravel! I dropped my chest low, nose just an inch away from its smooth spiral shell. It crept forward so slowly, leaving a gleaming wet trail over the dry stone. I tilted my head, gave the rock a gentle, polite paw tap to say hello, and sat totally still so I wouldn't rush its little hike!