A Turn of the Pedal

I pressed my front paws against the lower pedal of a bicycle parked along the brick pavement. The crank hung just level with my chest, its rubber tread worn smooth at the corners. With a steady push, I nudged it backward. The pedal glided in an easy arc, coaxing a quiet, rhythmic clicking from the rear wheel hub as the gear ratcheted softly. I stood motionless, letting the faint metallic hum vibrate right through my paws until the rotation slowed. Once the ticking faded into the afternoon air, I rested my blunt snout against the cool steel crank and stayed put.