It’s that time. That time when spring is in the air. The smell of blooming flowers, freshly cut lawns and copious amounts of rubber remnants that have exhausted their hold with that which we call the modern automobile. No? I guess it’s my racer instinct to prepare for such sensations. Being a midwestern-based bun, spring is the time I pine for track use that is soon to be bestowed upon me. To be with my comrades in paws. To challenge every apex that is before me.   This year is off to a rough (ruff? Woof?) start. The first calendar...