Breaching the Perimeter

The overturned zinc trowel was secure under my claws, but the wooden fence slats behind the cedar hedge rose like an unresolved cliff. Right at the bottom gap, a cracked red clay drainage tile sat jammed between two thick cedar roots. Direct obstruction. I lowered my snout and rammed my forehead into the curved terra cotta. Dull crunch. It didn't budge. I backed up two strides, dropped my chest low to the damp needle mulch, and charged full weight into the clay rim. Snap. The weathered tile fractured in half, crumbling into the dirt. A clear tunnel opened beneath the bottom timber rail. I thrust my snout into the opening, sniffed the wild grass beyond, and let out a blunt, clicking hiss.