Percussion Drill

A small wooden tambourine lay resting flat on the living room rug, its silver jingles tucked quiet in their slots. An untested instrument. I trotted straight over without a second's delay. The stretched skin looked tight and ready. I squared my stance, reared up on my hind legs, and brought both front paws down hard in the center. Thump-ching! A sharp, deep boom punched through the quiet room, sending a bright spray of metallic shivers straight up into my pads. I froze. Ears pinned forward. The tiny discs hummed until the last vibration drifted away. Perfect strike. Rhythm station officially active.