Only two types of people run in Texas in the summer months: (1) serious athletes; and (2) crazies. I'll leave it to you as to which category I belong to. A few minutes ago, during my 3.1-mile run in the neighborhood, I was attacked by a pack of chihuahuas. I'm serious. The dogs are usually behind a fence when I pass. Their high-pitched barks are comical. I always wondered what they would do if they got out of the fence. Today, at long last, I found out. They chased me, nipping at my heels for 100 yards. I wish someone had videotaped it. It would be a YouTube sensation.
Curro Ergo Sum
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