A Pile of Fun

Ellie stood on the back porch, rake in hand, staring at the explosion of autumn leaves scattered across the yard. Gold, crimson, and copper blanketed the grass like a patchwork quilt. “Well,” she sighed, “let’s get this over with.”

Each drag of the rake made the leaves whisper and crunch, gathering into a growing mound near the old oak tree. A breeze lifted a few strays, sending them twirling around her boots. It was chilly, but the sun was warm on her shoulders.

Halfway through the job, Max—her golden retriever—bounded outside with his tail wagging like a metronome. He sniffed the pile, then looked at Ellie with a mischievous sparkle in his eyes.

“Don’t you dare,” Ellie warned.

But Max didn’t speak human. He spoke in joyful leaps.

With a gleeful bark, he charged forward and launched himself right into the pile. Leaves exploded into the air like confetti. Ellie gasped, then burst out laughing. Max popped his head up, leaves stuck to his fur like silly stickers, tongue lolling.

“Well,” she said, pretending to scold, “I guess I’ll just have to start over.”

But as she bent to rake again, Max pounced once more, sending the leaves flying. This time Ellie dropped the rake, backed up a few steps, and ran straight at the pile herself. Whoosh! Leaves flew everywhere, warm and scratchy against her sweater. Max barked and spun in circles, tail wagging double-time.

The chore turned into a game—piling, jumping, scattering, and laughing. By the time the sun dipped low and painted the sky orange and pink, they were both covered in leaves and smiling wide.

Ellie leaned against the oak tree, Max flopped beside her, and the two watched the last of the leaves drift down.

“Okay,” Ellie said between breaths, “maybe raking isn’t so bad.”

Max wagged his tail in agreement—or maybe just in hopes of one more jump.

© 2025 Lowvee Cole. All rights reserved.

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