Intercepting the Roll

The smooth brown acorn rested right in the seam between two concrete slabs. Target locked. Step. Pause. Tail flick. I circled twice, head tilted sharp to the left, calculating the driveway's slight downward slope. Decisive action. A forceful nudge from my snout sent the nut spinning forward. It gathered speed across the rough grain, veering sharply toward a deep gutter gap. Intercept needed immediately. I sprinted low, flanking wide with quick bipedal bounds, and slammed my sickle foot claw down right across its path. *Clack!* The acorn deflected off my heel and settled snugly into a mossy hollow beside the curb. Captured.