The dream fumbled into confusion as the first rays of sunlight cracked through the blinds,
awaking the young tiger. He fought back the dawn as he tried to re-enter the dream to no
avail. Besides, he'd been asleep eight solid hours.

Time to make things happen.

He flung back the sheet and scratched his taut belly automatically, smiling as he realized
there was no shift today at the coffee shop he worked at. No classes, either. The entire day
was his for the taking.

A fitness poster with a smiling, hunky boar caught his eye. He'd put it up a few years ago
back in high school. For the thousandth time, his gaze traveled up and down and over the
contours of the model's beefy, lean form. He begged his mom to let him work a part time job
to pay for a gym membership. He studied homework, but put most of his efforts into studying
bodybuilding. The dedication paid off. By the time he graduated high school, he found himself
at the center of attention no matter where he went.

Jogs in the park meant wolf whistles. Going to the pool attracted smiling glances as the
other swimmers admired the way his stripes caressed each sculpted bit of him. He had no
problem finding other folks to spot for him in the weight room. He ignored them all. He had
no time for dating.

He looked down at his body as he groggily considered what to do first. He'd been sleeping in
the buff since he started to get into shape. Partly for comfort, but partly because he'd
outgrown a bunch of his clothes. He blushed in embarrassment as he recalled the time his dad
caught him sleeping naked on top of the sheets one hot summer.

A scent of coffee lingered in the air as he could hear his father puttering around in the
kitchen. In a minute, he reasoned. Maybe something to eat. He wondered if he had to go to the
store for more veggies.

The young tiger stretched and flexed as he sat up and rotated his legs out over the edge of
the bed. He almost stepped on his jogging shorts as he set his footpaws down. Scooping up the
shorts, he gave them a sniff. Still clean.

Padding over to the mirror, he pulled them on, enjoying the feel of the stretchy fabric over
his thighs. He made a few adjustments and flexed, grinning at his reflection. He loved these
shorts. Loved the way they looked on him. Loved the way they felt. Loved how they complimented
his fur colours and matched his eyes somewhat. He wore them jogging, cycling and even to the
weight room. He wished he'd bought three pair.

But now he loved them even more. A bigger grin extended across his muzzle as thoughts of
yesterday flowed into his mind. That big rottie in the gym gave him his number. The one he'd
been secretly stealing glances of. Apparently the big dawg had noticed and so he padded up to
the tiger while he was doing bicep curls and stuffed a piece of paper into the waistband of
his favorite shorts.

Heart racing, the tiger stole away to the locker room and called the number.

The pleasant memory was interrupted by a yawn from behind him. He focused his green eyes to
the reflection of the bed and the naked rottie now stirring awake in it.

Lucky shorts, indeed.