A Little Seesaw

A flat wooden craft stick lay balanced across a rounded pebble by the edge of the path. I paused... watching both ends hover in the quiet air. Waddling closer, I lifted one front paw and rested it firmly on the raised tip. With a crisp wooden tap, the stick tilted downward against the asphalt, sending the opposite end swinging into the air. I held still, waiting for the vibration to settle through my pads. Then I shifted my weight and gave the high side a gentle press with my chin. It rocked right back with a muffled clack. An unhurried, quiet game.