In Culiacan I had the misfortune of killing a dog. Dogs are a nuisance in Mexico, anyway. They are almost as plentiful as the people themselves. Every street in every village is swarmed with them, every market place is lousy with them. You know how dogs like to bark at a motorcycle! Imagine my arrival at a town, any town. Imagine all the dogs in that town barking after my motorcycle, all at the same time, a million of them. From every corner, from every door, from every alley they’ll come out and join in the rumpus. If you can imagine all that you can understand my predicament. And I killed one of them, one out of a million. And I felt sad because I killed a dog.