I really like dogs, man’s best friend and all. But there are a few I could do without, admittedly. Just a few. I’m not even talking about the yappy fur balls that are a perverse progeny of wolverine descent; they have a purpose in that they make some people happy. No, I’m simply referring to the dangerous ones out on the country roads that don’t like cyclists.
Granted, most big back-road hounds will just bark and run, and when I stop and give them treats (which I carry), we make friends with each other. I actually used to go out to see a Great Dane—fell in LOVE with her, and she tried to get in my lap, hilarious!
One winter day, as I was riding without Bob, I was accosted by a particular nasty that decided his property included the road. So I did what my husband had taught me, getting off my bike to put it between me and my enemy. As I began to back up, the dog followed, snarling and barking, indicating he had one thing on his mind—a piece of me. (Unfortunately, another big one had joined him on the other side of the street, so now I had tandem trouble.) Continue reading “Or you could just peddle faster…(ha!)”