Benny leaps out of bed and stamps his front paws. The morning sun slides golden across his quilt. He hears birds calling from the mailbox.
Benny hops into the leafy garden and digs two fingers into the warm soil, pulling up a knobby carrot with a loud pop. Mom snips it and taps the dirt off Benny's nose.
Benny grabs two carrots and runs to the fence where Sam waits. On three, they take off — Benny's legs become four blurry paws and Sam scampers ahead.
Sam crosses the finish line first, then turns and offers Benny a shiny acorn cap. Benny laughs and hands Sam a whole carrot instead, crunching loudly.
Benny carries a paper bag of sliced carrots down the quiet street. Mrs. Chen takes a slice and sprinkles pepper; the cat bats at a falling piece.
Benny climbs the front steps and trips on the welcome mat, sending the bag tumbling. Carrots scatter everywhere — rolling down the path, bouncing off the gate.
The sun sinks low and paints the sidewalk orange as Benny sits on the porch step, nibbling the last carrot slice. His belly feels round and full.
Benny pads upstairs and curls up under his quilt. The house settles with a soft creak. Benny closes his eyes and smiles at the empty carrot bag on the table.