Marked Safe

Humans: not recommended

Marked Safe

We were charged by our neighbor's dogs this morning. They're medium-large pit mixes and they were on the street when Caradoc and I were on our way home from our morning peregrinations. Soon as I saw them from a distance I started trying to photograph them, to get Evidence for Naming and Shaming. Failed miserably. Not good at this camera. Yet.

My dog is an old hand at such confrontations. He watches. He waits. He does not make a sound, and he selects his moment.

Then boom! Like a cannonball. I've never seen another dog hold their ground when he does that.

Between Caradoc's competency and my addressing these dogs with sternly worded commands, they backed off. Then I had to retrieve Caradoc, whose leash I'd dropped when he lunged, lest I fall over. He was waiting unfazed several feet away. No way that dog was going anywhere. He'd done what he had to and now it was time to go home for a nap.

I'd give him a solid 10 on this one, and me an 8. But it takes practice.

The first time I remember being charged by loose dogs here was when I was living with Spider Bob in the late 1990's, and we were keeping this Dachshund who had conned me into taking him on, and then promptly ditched me when he became enamored instead of Bob.

We had some friends who kept a different Dachshund, who made an escape and got himself detained at a remote location, and our friends thought he was gone for good. Then, miraculously, a new stray Dachshund showed up, like an omen. So they figured he was their dog now and named him Kelly.

Then the old Dachshund showed back up. And the Dachshunds did not like each other. And one thing led to the other.

I was taking Kelly for a walk one day, exploring the side streets, when suddenly three extra-large dogs came racing out of an open chain link fence gate, coming right at us. I scooped up Kelly. The dogs reached me, eyeing the sausage, and started circling, with one trying to get behind me, and me going "No!" etc., and starting to back off.

Meanwhile a young man came running out and grabbed one of the pits by the collar while calling to the other one. "Feather! Feather!"

Feather was distinctly uninterested. The other, more indeterminate dog was still trying to get behind us, and I had an epiphany.

No one is in charge here. It's gotta be me.

And I got us out. Backwards and saying "No!" all the way.

Another time was when I kept a border collie, Casey. We were right outside our house, with him on lead and me carrying a stick, when a bulldog from a couple doors down charged us while his owner and her friends sat there and watched mutely, for a good 30-60 seconds, during which I ineffectually whacked the bulldog with the stick, which promptly broke into small pieces.

"Get your fucking dog!" I shrieked. She got up and came over, at a leisurely pace, to inform me that the dog was a puppy and didn't even have all his teeth yet.

This was a 35-40# dog. And puppy teeth are sharp. Well ma'am, imagine what a menace he'll be when he does have them all.

I did not say that. She put her hand on my shoulder. "Are you all right?"

I violently shrugged her off. We did not part in a comfortable manner. Well, except for Casey. Casey always did like a good fight.

Some years later, with Falcor. Falc was a border collie/Great Pyrenees cross and the chillest dog I've ever kept as an adult. We were headed down our usual alley, the shortcut to the canal, and there's the yard with the chain link fence that can't be over a meter tall, with a brand new Rottweiler behind it. I could see this one coming straight off. The dog simply floated over the fence and came running over to do battle.

Falcor wasn't having any of it. Just snarled a little and pushed at the other dog with his head. Dogs like Falc are hard to get ahold of with your teeth, what with all the fur. We got away from that one unscathed too, though a previous and similar dog at the same location did the same thing, and flatout attacked Casey, who got a few bites from that round.

Couple years back with my current dog, Caradoc. We were going down my street, a couple blocks away. There was a Great Dane inside a fence that he looked like he could just step over. The Dane stayed in the yard, though. Then another dog came whaling up out of the back yard, looking like what you'd get if you crossed an American pit bull with a mastiff. He was trailing a nylon cord he'd obviously chewed through, ripped right through a three foot diameter pre-existing hole in the fence, and engaged Caradoc in battle.

I started hopefully hollering "Get your dog!" as a neighbor looked grimly on. The owner emerged shortly and got his dog, while I was again trying to back off with Caradoc, who was holding his own, but you know you can't just stand there and do that all day.

That's not even counting all the times I've been chased on my bicycle. At this point I just roll my eyes and talk to them like children when they start eyeing me that way. "Nuh-uh. Nooo, noooo. Go home." And that can work.

Apparently telling humans to do better is a lost cause. God knows a lot of people try to. What I've found with all this is that sheer repetition has bought or taught me a kind of authority where I don't get scared, just intensely annoyed.

I now completely ignore humans if they're around being ineffectual when I encounter their dogs on the street, and honestly it's easier when they aren't, because the dog won't be trying to protect their human as well. I also carry pepper spray, but the thought of trying to use that in such a situation without practice is unnerving. Stay upwind, I know that much, and keep your dog upwind. Good luck finding a moment to test the wind, though.

And what if your dog is too small to safely take on 80# conspecifics? Well I'll just say I see a lot more of those kinds of dogs escaped or dumped and wandering around loose here than I do people walking them. Sometimes the pit bulls find them first. It's a harsh life for dogs here.

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Falcor, no longer with us