I shoved the door open and strode into the arena. A few gazelles scattered skittishly when they saw me, running for the safety of their mother's teats. A couple of grizzled old lions caught my gaze and held it momentarily before looking away.

I snorted and pawed at the ground.

It was good to be back.

Back where I belonged.

In the land of prime rib. The Land of Beef and Bone.

The Gym.

It had been a long time coming but nothing seemed to have changed. I sashayed over to the lateral pulldown machine and threw my towel on the seat before dropping into a contorted thigh stretch, making sure to narrow my eyes and groan with pleasure as my mighty thigh muscles creaked like the rigging on a boat.

Covid had closed all of the gyms and there had been precious little to do these past two years other than throw dog carcasses into the river and bet on the resulting race.

I couldn't help but smile fondly at the thought of Old Jericho, the floppy-eared spaniel who had won me many golden doubloons until one day his beautiful golden remains just fell apart in my hands as I was lifting him up to throw in at the starting line.

From then on, the Dead Dog Races lost their appeal and I had struggled to find another dead dog that floated as well as Old Jericho.

I shook my head to clear the horrors of lockdown and Covid. I am sure everyone has their tales to tell and I would not like to lay my woes upon you the humble reader.

A young filly approached and looked at my muscular frame in appreciation before pulling out a large tablet and jabbing at it with a finger.

Boomy McBoomboom? I'm Lanelle, I will be doing your induction today.

She smiled as if imagining inducing me already. My belly gravid with child and her hand mopping my brow and telling me to push harder.

Si. El correcto mis amis.

I boomed in my flawless Espanol.

She nodded uncertainly. Unquestionably intimidated by my gentlemanly manner. I contemplated getting the pipe out and lighting it up for a smoke so she could see that I was indeed human, just like her.

I decided to wait till halfway through my workout, it would be unseemly to start puffing before getting a sweat on.

Come, just some health and safety questions to fill out and then we can let you at the machines.

She waved at the so-called machines before striding off to a small area with tables and chairs nearby.

As I turned to shimmy after her a voice gave me pause.

Excuse me mate, are you having a go on this one?

It was one of the 'lions' from earlier, an oily-looking fool with foppish hair. As I sniffed in disdain at his question, he started sucking frantically at a water bottle the size of the moon, still flabbing a hairy hand toward my towel draped so beautifully over the seat of the pulldown machine.

Yes, I am.

I smirked before leaving my towel on guard and heading off to speak to Lanelle.

He sputtered something behind me. I hoped he hadn't attempted to touch my towel. It had lain in my gym bag for quite some time now and I swear it had grunted when I had stuffed my workout gear in earlier.

I pulled a chair out with one of my many beefy arms and sat across from Lanelle who proceeded to ask me many questions but bizarrely not one about how I liked my eggs in the morning.

In no time we were done and I did a shuffling happy dance back to my towel and the Lat Pulldown machine.

The squeaky young lion was still prowling about unhappily near it as I approached.

Excuse me? Can you move your towel please?

He seemed quite put out and flicked his foppish hair angrily to the side as he spoke.

His hair caught my eye and I stared at it entranced, it was a copperish blonde and wet from perspiration. The wet shine of it seemed hauntingly familiar.

Sorry, is your name Jericho?

I flipped my towel to the side and sat where it had lain.

Huh, Jericho? No, it's Paul?

He stood there looking confused as I began to exercise my mighty oak-like arms.

I thought quietly back to Old Jericho and the times I had thrown him in the river for the race. His golden hair glinting wetly as his cadaver had sliced through the current to the finish line.

Paul stomped off muttering about people being rude. His damp golden hair bouncing as he went.

I watched him stride off and chuckled. Well, well, well. Maybe I had found myself a new Old Jericho...