It was a hot day. The entire summer had been hot, but today, with Nash's thick, dark coat, he was simply sweltering. Instead of his usual activity, he'd spent his time hiding away in the shade and trying not to move too much. As the day progressed and the sun grew higher, it got hotter and finally, shortly after the sun had reached its peak, Nash decided to head to the lake. A cool drink of water would do him good, and, now that he thought about it, seemed like an efficient way to cool down. He could even do some fishing while he was there.
He sighed with relief as he waded into the chilly waters. The nice thing about living on a mountain was that their lake was made of snowmelt and remained a reasonably cold temperature throughout the year.
Nash gleefully lapped up his fill of water before wading further out to allow the chill to seep all the way through his fur before returning to shallower water and turning his eye to fishing.
He felt like he'd been standing still for ages when a fish large enough to bother with came within range. Or, Nash thought it was within range. He lunge for it, and when the thing darted away he clumsily chased after it, paws kicking up sand and silt and clouding the water. His paw caught on something and, too deep to have any real control of his body now, Nash tumbled below the surface, then came up spluttering, far enough out that his paws no longer touched the bottom. Annoyed, he began his swim back toward shore.