“FOR NO PARTICULAR REASON,” thinks Bob as the family takes off in the car. He vaults to the top of the chain link, crawls over and runs down the street after them. Sure, they are blocks away. Who knows why he does things? Certainly not Bob. Anyway, he is in the zone. He hits his stride with the wind whipping across his face, the clicktey rhythm of his toenails on the pavement and perfectly balanced coordination of his tail. The family keeps getting farther away. Bob stops. Throws up a little. Pants. Then he realizes: “Where the hell am I?”

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