Four AM is, apparently, the hour of choice for marauding packs of stray dogs. Before the new schedule, I’d never had a problem with streetwise beasts. This morning counts the second time I’ve had a heart-pumping showdown with a gaggle of mutts. Fortunately they were more mischievous than bloodthirsty, but it’s got me thinking about self-defense. I may have to improvise some bicycle-mounted, quickly deployed instrument of emphatic discouragement, if for no other reason than to keep from getting teeth-holes in my beloved merino wool shirt (seriously… I think Merino sheep must be force-fed rainbows and moonbeams. It’s the only explanation for the magical properties of that fabric).
If you died tomorrow in a fiery crash on your way to work, no one would say Well, what did she expect, DRIVING to work like that?
If I went down in a flesh-rending frenzy of chomping and slobber, I wouldn’t fare so well in the watercooler discussions. What did she expect, riding a bicycle in the middle of the night?
What do I expect? Just a little cold air on my face, the flexing of my own muscles, and the good kind of adrenaline rush–not the impromptu dog-ninja warrior kind.
If only this were my problem...
Not going to lie, I think I’d be terrified to meet a pack of dogs while trying to get on a bike all in the name of getting to work on time. (And I’m a dog person.)
always swerve at the dogs. it seems against the grain, but it works like no other. you have to remember you are bigger, especially on a bike. squirting with water bottles or a well placed wad of spit to the face always seems to work as well for one or two dogs.
Yeah, I *know* all the rules in an intellectual sense… but the ole adrenaline rush is very good at undermining the intellect. Really, I’d just rather not have to really need the info… Can’t I just ride through green fields with fairies and unicorns instead?
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