The red mist descends as I’m chased down and bitten once again by these fucking mutts left to their own device. Now I have no idea how you might react to having your legs and ankles bitten by dogs while cycling uphill every day to work. Maybe you’d blame yourself and say it’s your own fault for daring to pass a road it’s taken to as its territory. I prefer to stick my boot across the big fuckers head.
Some dogs will learn from that but some will not.
Again this mangy, feral fuck flies from its garden as I start to enter Arikok National Park to begin my daily chore of watering the desert and other duties which might lie in store. I don’t like kicking animals and it’s plain to me now that even as a last resort it’s just not working with this one and so when it grabs at me this time I bring my bike to a sudden halt, jump off and chase it back to its house.
My rattling of the door is answered by a middle aged, beer bellied prick telling me he’ll talk to his dog and tell it to leave me alone.
“Are you taking the piss? You’ll TALK to your dog. It’s a fucking dog. I’m talking to you and telling you to put a leash on it. Not all the time because it’s only in the morning it attacks but you can’t let your dog bite people going into the park and it really is every fucking day”!
“I’ll talk to him, really I will and I don’t understand why he’s doing that. Look at him, he is very sorry.” Says a man that’s just not taking me seriously. I know which one I’ll be kicking tomorrow if it happens again and it won’t be the four legged one.
Next day and I’m entering the park already fuming at the fact that it’s going to happen again. It’s sitting at the side of the road and waiting, waiting to pounce and take my legs off at the knees. I cycle by and prepare to go fucking nuts and.. Nothing. Just looks up and stays put.
Looks like he really did have a good talk with his dog and not a peep from it for the rest of my time here. I should have had it out with him ages ago and it would have saved me and the dog a lot of grief.
I did run into a dog with my bike on the way home one afternoon. After swerving many times I managed to get it in the end. No, I’m just joking about trying to get it but it did run from behind and then cut on front of me causing my front tire to bounce of it.
It could have been a much more painful outcome if I’d been traveling downhill when this occurred although our cute Belgian vet would have been well impressed with my special delivery of a mangled pooch. “’Someone’ must have run it down, but don’t ask me who. No really don’t”!