Mexico in a Dog’s Eyes
OW! DAMN. AND she’s yanking me again. Always in such a rush at this hour, ready to start the jog up the steps and onto the hill. I’m already breathing hard, looking at her expectantly, and at the same time keeping an eye out for the stray cats that dot these stairs, thin and bony and mean as hell but oh-so-delightful to chase up fences if I get a chance. She doesn’t like it, though, because then the señoras with tough black braids and brooms come out and give her those stern glances.