This morning I was walking across my kitchen when something on the floor darted between my legs to within about several feet in front of me. I thought it was a mouse or a large snarling, threatening, foul-mouthed insect and so I let out a high-pitched shriek, the kind actresses scream out in horror movies, but mine was at a higher pitch. Within two hours I calmed down after I discovered it to be a piece of dry dog food about half the size of a peanut that I had somehow kicked. As I threw it into the garbage, I could swear it was showing its jagged teeth and shaking its little fist at me. My wife and I now have little choice but to move.
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