The Rolling Chase

I trotted down the porch steps and followed the walkway out toward the open driveway, eager for some fresh air and open space. Resting right against the curb was a bright neon-yellow tennis ball, coated in thick, fuzzy felt. I squared up, planted both paws against its rubbery side, and gave it an energetic shove. It rumbled down the smooth asphalt with a low whir, picking up speed along the gentle slope. I dashed right after it, kicking up my sneakers to match its pace until it bumped against a low wooden garden border and ricocheted back. I braced myself and scooped it neatly against my chest before it could roll away.