Half a step short of a squirrel.

I was on the way to the kitchen to fix my pre mid-morning snack.  Just a little something to tide me over 'til snack time.

My route took me by the doggie door, where I found the Beagle Posse involved in some intense beagle project.  Tuppence was squatted by the inside of the door when Tommy came at full run from behind me, did a four paw drift turn, and slammed through the flap. Tuppence growled at him and yipped, and Tommy turned back inside with a low head and a tucked tail.  He was backing off to, evidently, take up his starting position again when I said, "Wait. What in the Wide Wide World of Crazy is going on?"

"Squirrel practice," said Tuppy as Tommy began to butt wiggle as if settling into some unseen starting blocks.

"OK, wait.  STOP, Tommy. What is this?"

"On our runs after squirrels, we've been missing by 'bout half a step," says Tommy.

Tuppy spoke up, "We've got a whole plan to find that step.  And it starts with Tommy being more quiet going through the dog door--the sound of the flap is warning the squirrels."

Tommy petulantly asked, "Why didn't you spend a couple more bucks and get a quiet kind?"

"Well, I don't know that there is a 'quiet kind,' and anyway you're not putting your wham-bam exits off on me,"

Tommy began to settle back into his starter stance, and Tuppy was saying, "Think swoosh. Think swoosh.  Nothing but door."

"What else are you doing besides door flapping?" I asked.

Tuppy said, "We haven't even thought of everything yet.  There will be lots."

"In other words, you got nothing."

Tommy said, "It would help if you pitched in. I was looking at the back yard, and there's two easy things you could do.  You could move the bird feeders closer to the house so the squirrels have to run further to the fence, and you could grease the fence."

"Grease the fence?"

"So they slide off of it."

"We like the bird feeders where they are, they are part of the garden plan, and if they were closer to the house, we couldn't see them from more than one room.  And, since the fence is wood, I don't think we could make it greasy enough that squirrel claws couldn't dig in. And it would create a nasty mess."

"We already create nasty messes in the back yard."

"Yeah, but we take a pooper scooper and pick those up."

"OK," said Tommy, "how 'bout you shorten the fence so I can jump to the top?"

"I don't think so.  The fence is like it is so you two don't jump out."

"Then," advised Tuppence, "you shouldn't have picked us so short."

"What?"

"If you had waited a while to rescue us, we could have grown taller."

I sighed. "That makes no sense at all.  You are beagles, and beagles are only so tall."

"Yeah," said Tuppy, "and if you'd waited until we were Collies, we'd be taller."

"It doesn't work that way.  And, in any case, if you were Collies all you'd care about would be sheep, and maybe kids named Timmy with an unnatural attraction to wells."

"Can sheep climb fences and trees?" asked Tommy.

"Uh, no."

"Then it would have been problem solved."

"You will never be Collies.  We wanted beagles, and we rescued beagles.  You might want to give some thought to being thankful."

"Then," said Tuppence, "if you aren't going to help, we'll get back to squirrel training.  Tommy! Assume the position."

"If you're serious about gaining a half step," I said, "then you need to consider real muscle training.  Stuff to build up your strength, your speed, really work on those quick-twitch muscles.  Like an Olympic sprinter."

"Do what?" asked Tommy.

"Really work at it," I said.  "Exercise."

"That's funny," said Tuppence. "Your auto-correct changed 'nap' to 'exercise.'  See you later."

And yawning, they walked off. Squirrel practice had entered the squirrel napping stage.