She runs

I sit on the grass and slap my hands on the ground. Dog looks at me, all attention. I slap the ground again and she jumps at me. I push her away and slap the ground with both hands. She cocks her head and comes at me again. We wrestle and I push her away. She rolls over and jumps up. She is happy beyond her own comprehension. I slap the ground again and her enjoyment takes over. She jumps up and she runs. At full tilt, she runs away from me, around a small shrub, and comes barrelling down at me, as fast as she can. She races past me and continues to the other end of the garden, still going all out. There she turns again and heads back for me, thundering down the lawn.
I slap the ground with both my hands and she zips past me as close as she can, brushing against me as she runs. She runs and runs and runs, pouring out her energy to fulfill this joy she cannot understand and cannot contain.