A Swift Chase

I slipped past the front gate onto the sloping driveway. Sitting near the top was an old, fuzzy yellow tennis ball... nearly as round as my chest. I hesitated for a breath, then placed both front paws against its rough felt. With a firm push, I sent it rolling. It rumbled down the asphalt, wobbling faster toward the street curb! I had to act. I broke into a fast scamper, my paws pattering across the ground. Right before it rolled off the edge, I leaped forward and trapped it against the raised stone curb. It bounced softly and went still. I held it tightly, feeling very swift.