Rubber Track

I gripped a glossy brown chestnut firmly between both fuzzy paws. Ahead of me, the thick black rubber sling of a swing dipped down low toward the bark chips. *Squeak...* I paused, holding my breath and counting to four while calculating the curve. One cautious shuffle... two. I set the chestnut at the upper bend of the flexible seat and gave it a soft push. *Swoosh.* It glided smoothly along the rubber track, dipped through the deep hollow, and hopped off into a soft mound of wood shavings! I wobbled back on my toes, squeaking in quiet, fluttering pride.