Rolling Downhill

A smooth round pebble rested near the brink of the concrete step. Instead of pressing into it, I gave it a sharp flick with the side of my snout. It wobbled, tipped over the ridge, and tumbled down the slope, clattering onto the gravel below. I didn't stay still. Swinging my tail wide to counter my weight, I lumbered down the riser after it at a brisk, heavy trot. When I caught up, it lay half-buried between two dry twigs. I lined up my stance and shoved it forward with my knee, watching it skip across the dirt and carve a little track before coming to a halt.