Bridge Rail Grand Prix

I zipped through the cat flap and sprinted straight to Island Park! That arched wooden footbridge was calling my name. Scramble, hop—whoosh! I bounded up the post and landed all four paws on the broad cedar handrail. High ledge secured! Right in the center groove sat a round, fuzzy sycamore seed ball, trembling in the air. Moving target sighted! Zero hesitation—smack! My front paw sent the spiky brown sphere racing down the timber track like a runaway bowling ball. Clatter-whirrr! It zipped along the wood grain, banked off a raised brass bolt, and wedged firmly against the end post. High-altitude strike achieved!