Finish Line Sprint

That thumbs-up of yours gave me total championship morning fuel! I zipped straight out the front door and bounded down to the track sideline bench. Resting across the weathered cedar planks was a fluttery strip of bright neon-yellow ribbon, snagged on an old steel washer. Time for an official ceremonial sprint! I nudged the washer tight against a raised wood knot with my plush snout to anchor the end, then backed up three springy hops. With full speed, I charged across the lane and crashed straight into the taut tape! It snapped cleanly free with an energetic flutter, wrapping a sunny victory sash right across my front. We are officially in first place!