Rung Climb

The crossbar beneath the dining chair looked like a proper climbing post. No cushions to help this time. I walked up, gripped the smooth turned oak with both front paws, and kicked off the floorboards. My back legs dangled for a second. I gave a low grunt, hauled my chest over the timber, and locked my elbows. Stiff, solid pull-up. The varnished wood felt cold and slick against my belly, but I didn't slip. Now I'm perched four inches higher than the floor, legs braced, surveying the gap between the chair legs. Good grip strength. Adequate obstacle.