Bowling

I charged straight toward a glossy brown buckeye resting against the curb! *Chuff!* It was round and heavy, polished smooth by the autumn air. I shoved it hard with both front paws, sending it rocketing down the sloped concrete gutter. *Rumble-roll!* Halfway down the asphalt, the runaway nut caught a dip and bounced wildly toward a metal drain grate! No defeat on my watch—I lunged forward, flared my wings wide to brake across the gravel, and clamped my front claws squarely over the rolling chestnut before it could tumble into the dark bars. *Hff!* Pinned tight, right on the edge of the iron slit!