The slide

I flopped forward onto my round belly at the top of the low wooden ramp in the park shade. Tucking my flippers close to my sides, I gave the varnished pine an eager push with my feet. My soft plush underside glided effortlessly down the buffed slope with a muffled whisper of friction. At the bottom, I coasted right off the lip and skidded into a bed of dry cedar mulch, popping back onto my feet with a soft rustle. Three curled wood shavings clung to my front like little badges. I gave them a gentle pat, feeling thoroughly pleased with my speedy descent.