The thought suddenly struck me plain and obvious: "These dogs won't stop until I'm good and bloody."
There were two of them; a mixed breed of Boxer and Pit Bull; clean, white--collared, tagged and--for some inexplicable reason, ferociously intent on tearing me to shreds!
Ah, but I'm getting ahead of myself. . .
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I've been riding a bike to the exclusion of driving a car for well over a year now and I've never had any problems with dogs. Sure, I've had a bike stolen; I've had cars almost hit me; I've had broken glass, thorns, nails, badly tended roads to contend with--but, never any dogs.
All that ended on Saturday morning at 8:30 am.
I had just begun my ride and had not gone 50 feet when the first dog ran out of a yard up ahead of me. It was unusually aggressive right away. I immediately came to a full stop right in the middle of the street. I dropped my hands to my sides.
I calculated the chances of going faster than the dog could run and decided I'd hate to lose because of having my tires bitten.
I was going to allow the dog to sniff me and decide I was no threat or intruder.
That's when the companion dog--probably a sibling--suddenly shot out into the street and approached from my opposite side.
An abiding wariness filled me with dread. These animals weren't curious. They weren't warning me off. I was some kind of opportunity for aggressive demonstration of punishment on their part!
I stayed frozen, making no moves at all.
That's when the first dog lunged at my leg and punctured my bare flesh with its teeth.
Yeah, it hurt and scared me all in the same instant!
Plans changed!
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The other dog on my opposite side was half jumping up at me and caught the side of my arm with a bared fang. Now I was bleeding from the leg and the opposite arm.
This situation was spiraling out of control alarmingly fast!
Before I could do much of anything, I started yelling for somebody to come out and do something. That wasn't going to happen, it was too early on a weekend for heroes or owners.
The first dog bore in again and caught me good on the same leg and tore two stripes of blood and ramped up its snarling.
I had an important decision to make--and to make very fast!
I carry a pocket knife with a small but sharp blade. I decided emphatically, it would be the wrong thing to do to start dueling, stabbing, slashing with two dogs. No--I'd need to act defensively and it had to be exactly the right defense.
I jumped off my bike and lifted it in such a way I could swing it around from side to side, fending off the two beasts and providing a moving shield. This did NOT discourage the attacks. It intensified the instincts of these two animals. I could easily sense the oppositional nature of my situation fed into their breeding. Theirs was to overcome fight response and defense of any prey by sheer force of aggression.
I had to wield the bicycle very fast, side to side or the one and then the other could time their spirited incursion inside my arc of defense and tear at my bare legs, (I wore shorts) and go for my most tender areas of unprotected flesh!
I did this by going in a full circle every now and then, unpredictably, to throw off their timing of advance, parry and thrust.
At about the three-minute mark of this terrifying battle, the moment of clarity arrive without rebuttal: I was going to have to get away or I would surely lose--and losing wasn't an option I could risk.
Had I been out for a walk, I'd have had no defense possible! I can only guess the extent of the damage they'd have ravaged me with in the heat of hot blood and instinct and the smell of blood.
The adrenaline was pumping insanely inside my bloodstream in an electrifying LIFE OR DEATH scenario I fully remembered feeling, from an assault I'd suffered in prison, all those many years ago. What a rotten mess this was--and I had no time to bemoan my fate!
I began inching backward, as best I could manage while summoning whatever strength I had remaining. Side to side, circling-- backing up--thrusting the bike and blocking the teeth-- the coordinated pack stratagems of an inevitable, weird, evolutionary choreography, it continued.
Fairly exhausted and ready to faint from adrenal overwhelm, I blocked off the entrance inside the narrow passage which led to my new front door, inside a small courtyard. The yapping, snarling, surly, fang-baring duo were not amused. It was all I could do to hold that passage like some latter day Spartan, bleeding at Thermopylae in ancient millennia.
Then, just as quickly as it had begun--it was over!
A kind of uncontrollable trembling had seized my legs, arms and body with muscle spasms rendering me all but helpless. I was not unlike a very drunken man trying to steady myself as I staggered to the door. Now I couldn't guide the key in my wavering hand into the slit of a keyhole no matter how hard I concentrated.
I stopped and whispered, "It is all over--breathe! Breathe!" I sucked in deep lungfuls of air and held it before slowly exhaling.
A minute or so later, I was inside.
I tended my bites with hydrogen peroxide, then I applied a thick coating of antibiotic cream to the affected area. I didn't sit down. If I had--I'd not have been able to get up again.
In less than five minutes, I had full possession of my senses. I determined to go back out and ride the opposite way on the street. I had a plan. I'd simply ignore my terror and not wallow in the incident or become entrapped by the rushing emotions of it all. This was nothing but rotten luck and a bad dog owner. I got caught in the cross-hairs of bad timing. That is ALL it amounted to.
So, I rode to the closest Starbucks and connected up to the Wi-Fi and found the website for reporting animal bites and loose dogs. I filled out and submitted the form.
Within an hour, I was sitting with Officer Garner of Animal Control. I answered his questions, signed the legal form, and let him photograph my bites. He immediately set off across the street and confronted the dog owner where he lectured him on the seriousness of the incident. The dogs would be quarantined for ten days. He'd be fined $$. And so on . . .
Later, my daughter Lily, drove over from Dallas and spent a lovely afternoon with me. I hadn't seen her since Father's Day. It was a wonderful, calming surprise. The visit was a perfect counter-balance to the odious beginning of my day.
All in all, I count the day as a big Win. I set out, dealt with an obstacle, resolved the problem, set in motion the solution--and had a great visit with my daughter.
I'm glad homo sapiens have reached the top of the food chain. I'd hate to think what my ancestors faced clawing their way through predators to arrive at the summit.
I imagine I had a wee small taste of that grand adventure:)
