I Was The Prey, Not The Hunter

As a preamble, let me mention that I have never been chased or attacked by any kind of animal while riding my bike. Not once. I've passed big dogs off the leash, little dogs, even a coyote once who looked at me with an expression akin to "what's your hurry?" Simply put, dogs don't scare me, and I give off the attitude that I'm the big dog, on the hunt, so join me or keep running the other way.

That changed this morning as I was making my way home from my "flat" workout (24.5 miles still translates to 1200 feet, go figure). On a very wide residential street, I heard a woman's voice yell out, "Come back here!" Somebody was being a "bad dog." So, from the very far side of the street shoots this little Jack Russell terrier mix, giving the short breaths and growls of a dog who wants to play.

It couldn't catch me, but since this was a loose dog, with cars and other people all over the place, and its master trying to catch it, I slowed down to take a look at the dog. First my left side, then running around the back tire to my right side, the terrier was trying to catch my shoes, and I was worried I would kick it in the snoot. And then, it was gone. I thought, "Uh oh, this is not safe," so I turned around, scanning the sidewalks and front yards for the escapee.

Beyond the intersection I had just passed, the little dog was running around all the front yards of a couple of houses, with the middle-aged lady holding the leash begging it to "come here." I geared down so that I could up my pedal cadence "a lot" and spin my legs. I grunted not loudly, "here," and the dog shot, again, right for me. Then I stopped, and I was finally "caught."

The little dog was jumping around my legs, giving that look that dogs give when they want you to throw the ball again. "Why aren't you moving?" it seemed the little dog was barking at my knees as it nudged them. The master made it to me, thanking me and apologizing for her dog. I replied, "It looks like he needed a target for you to catch up to him." And then the leash went on, as I offered my hand to let the dog know me.

The lady was explaining that he was a rescue that the family got just two days ago, and loves playing a chasing game. Obviously! Now that I was no longer prey, the dog, Cavanaugh, was just excited to meet someone new. But Cavanaugh had some bad habits, like chasing anything that moves, like the cyclist who passed by us as I was talking to the lady. Good thing the leash was on tighter that time. Next time I see Cavanaugh, that might not be his name anymore, as the family thinks that's too much of a mouthful, but I will keep an eye out in that neighborhood for any little dogs trying to chase bicycles.