Tactical Ballistics

A rogue yellow tennis ball had rolled under the wicker garden chair, completely unauthorized. I dropped into an elite low crouch to assess the threat. With one swift, highly technical swat of my front paw, I launched it spinning across the patio stones. It bounced off a terra-cotta flowerpot with a hollow clatter and rolled straight into the clover. I pursued it for three whole heroic strides before planting my front paw firmly on top of the felt sphere. The lawn is secure, the threat is neutralized, and I expect my trophy shortly.