Stop Drop and Roll

He heard Wesson’s voice and immediately flagged his tail excitedly “Wes!” He exclamed, turning his head to look at his brother and grinning idiotically as if his brother could see him through the log.

Awh, Glock, How'd ya get into this mess? Keep your tail down, I'll see if I can't push ya out."

His smile faltered and he mumbled a bashful “Sorry” in response, lowering his tail just as his brother had instructed. Until of course, he heard his brother’s voice

"Watch yur head Glock, ah'm comin' over. Ah'll pull while ya push 'im Wes."

His littermate sailed noiselessly over the log and his tail resumed its fervent wagging. “Colt!” He grinned, his tongue lolling from the side of his mouth. His brother grabbed his scruff while his tail batted against their older brother’s head. He had a faint idea of what his brothers were trying to do at first, he hadn’t quite caught that part in the excitement of finding his brothers, but as Wes pushed and Colt pulled the pieces clicked into place and he ceased his wagging  and dug his paws into the trunk of the tree to help.
The bark of the tree crackled in protest at it chipped away under the force of two large wolves forcing one slightly smaller but much wider wolf out from under it. With an  audible “Shlop” Glock popped through the small crevasse and landed butt over teakettle inside the nook, his tail once again resuming its happy tempo as his body slowly shifted forward, landing him on his back. “Thank ya!” he chimed, trying to catch a glimpse of his brothers while on his back, his tongue once again lulling out the side of his mouth, but now resting on the side of his muzzle. What his brothers had in size he made up for in girth and of course, enthusiasm.

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