Unleashed

One adjustment made in running since our move out to the suburbs has been the vast number of dogs that I encounter. Numerous owners show utter disregard for the law by allowing their canine companions to roam freely about the neighborhood. The dogs I've run across fall into several categories:

The Invisible Threat: During one evening outing, I was flagged down by a man wearing nothing but a pair of shorts and some tennis shoes, so as to expose his ample belly, watering his grass at the street. As I approached him, he flagged me down, asking if I could spare a minute. Being the diligent soul that I am, I had absolutely no desire to stop and talk with this man, nor to have to get anywhere nearer to his protruding naked hairy belly than I had to. As I waddled by him, he said, "I've got a dog, his name is Killer. He's friendly, but he's not on a leash. We just try to keep the undesirable sorts away." This exchange left me questioning whether I was one of these undesirables. However, I concluded that his warning was intended to calm me in the event that Killer and I crossed paths.

The Looming Presence: On a group run on local trails, the group came up on an unleashed Rotweiler jaunting about in the woods beside the trail. Our leader suggested that we grab rocks and sticks. The entire group yelled at the dog and tried to get in back into the woods and away from us.

The All Up in Your Business: I made the mistake of doing my favorite loop course twice one Sunday morning to meet up with a yellow lab who liked to run out in the street, barking furiously. The second time I passed him, I felt his spittle and breath on the back of my flapping thighs. My response was to yell "no" as loud as I could to not only ward off the dog, but also to signal to the stupid owners of said dog that their friend was in the middle of the road, a prime location to be squished, chasing a slow-moving runner.

The Multi-Faceted Attack: During a usual jaunt down weiner dog bend (usually one weiner dog will come flying up from a house and bark my heels), I caught sight of the usual black and tan weiner dog engrossed in yard work with its owner. Once it recognized my presence, it came charging at full weiner speed towards me, barked at my heels, then retreated once called back by its owner. As I rounded the end of the cul-du-sac and headed back, out of tall weeds to my right, another weiner dog, much smaller, but just as fierce, came speeding past, barking, but did not stop to bother me. I think the weiner is still running.

The Hands of a Child: I knew the little dog at the end of the leash tugging and straining was trouble when I ran past. Of course, somehow the dog magically escaped the leash that the child still held in his hand as little dog chased me down a hill, and back as I tried to corral the canine back towards its handler. Only when an older sibling stepped in could I continue my run.

Interestingly enough, all of these canine companions sum up my human interactions in the past few days. I've had a rough time at work, without more than five minutes to spare when there's not some daschund flying at me or Rot roaming about with a menacing look. Rarely do running life and work life combine; but for this instant....