Breaching the Trail Shoe

Stood inside the rubber tray, surrounded by dried dirt flakes. Ahead loomed the cavernous opening of the trail shoe. Hollow. Shadowed. Needed investigating. I lowered my skull and forced my snout straight into the opening beneath the laces. Stiff woven tongue pressed hard against my head. I dug my hind claws into the textured rubber bottom and drove forward with full torso power. Creak. The shoe collar stretched wide around my neck. A dry scent of trail dust and crushed pine filled my nostrils. Upper jaw wedged inside dark shelter; hind legs firmly anchored on the rubber tray. Territory claimed from within.