Cole
Cole “Charge!” Cole bursts out of his fort on his bike, swinging a dead stick as if it were a sword. ... Cole glanced at him and saw, covered in gobs of drool, a small greenish yellow tennis ball in the dogs mouth. ... A roar of laughter fills the air as the dog buries his head in Cole’s chest, his nose and fur tickling him like many little feathers. Cole, using all of his strength, hurls the ball as far as he could. ... Cole jumped up and snuck behind a bush before Chippy got back. ... His wet nose high in the air sniffing for Cole’s usual scent.