WARNING: This post may offend. To be rather blunt, I DON'T CARE. Live with it.
Picture the scene... It's a Saturday, and the sun is shining. Your beloved bull terrier/whippet/spaniel* is yapping around the sitting room floor, playfully holding it's lead in an effort to drag your grossly overweight, fat-laden frame away from the vital goal replay-replay of last week that's currently being vomited at you by your TV. Deciding that it's better to get this over and done with, you grab the canine by the neck and thrust him into the back seat of the car, where he can 'playfully' vomit all over the upholstery and bark randomly at pedestrians on the pavement. Soon enough, you reach your goal, the local parkland.
I imagine this is how life this Saturday morning passed for the owners of the two dogs who decided to try and eat me while I was riding my (lovely) bike just yesterday. Having decided to eschew the advantages of a lead for the sake of pure laziness, these fine up-standing folk thought that their beloved poo-factory of a dog would be absolutely fine without their lead. And, no doubt, they would have been completely fine, had the countryside been populated with nothing but trees and the occasional shrub. Unfortunately for me, I was to become a doggy-treat this day.
The first occasion was forgivable. I passed the dog with three feet to spare, and the dog tried to keep up with me, running alongside as I cycled up the muddy hill. How cute. Cute, that is, until the canine dope decided that my revolving feet would make a tasty snack, at which point he lunged, and dug his teeth into the left shoe. Luckily, the structure of the footwear held tight, resisting the undoubtedly vast pressure from the stupid dog's jaws. A minor irritation, which I can handle, albeit with a few choice swearwords as I cycle away...
Then, not more than 10 minutes later, the very same devil-dog appears again as I tentatively snake my way down a perilous decent. Having had new disc brakes fitted to my steed just one day previous, I was hesitant to go full-bore down the slope, should the brakes decide to display some previously-unknown manufacturing fault, and so I was merely trundling down the hill as the filthy animal tried 3 times to pierce the armour of my shoe. Luckily for me and my so-far tetanus-free bloodstream, my four-legged foe's teeth did not penetrate the soft, supple skin of my plates of meat. Disaster averted.
Let's wind on time for an hour or so. I've been in the saddle, blazing the trails for a time and am having a whale of a time. I become suddenly overconfident and attempt a river crossing. Despite smacking my genitals on the stem whilst attempting this (PAIN), I make it over the watery chasm and on to the other side. Buoyed by my victory, I continue towards the car park and my eventual exit from the parkland. But lo, as I cycle along the twisty, muddy path, a stupid dog-type creature bolts from across the waters, through the rapidly progressing river and over to where I was riding. This fella wasn't playing around, and as soon as he reached my side of the waterway, he attempted to take a sizeable chunk out of my right calf. Luckily for me, the last year's worth of cycling has enlarged my calf muscles, and so the pitiful mutt's jaws couldn't grasp onto my soft and juicy flesh - although I'm sure he did leave some kind of mark, as it felt funny for the rest of the ride.
And do you know what was the single most abhorrent, foul, and despicable event throughout this whole tale? Neither of the two dog owners said sorry. Not ONE could be BOTHERED to say a SIMPLE damn APOLOGY for their FILTHY, flea-infested CREATURE. So, from this point on, I will hate all dog-owners. Except people who own Basset Hounds or Labradors, both of which are too damn stupid to do anything besides lick their own genitals. So beware, dog owners. Next time your dog 'playfully' runs alongside a cyclist, don't be too surprised if they kick the stupid pet in it's stupid fat face...
Shortened version: I ride my bike, get bitten by dogs three times, owners don't say sorry, I get furious.
* Or whichever breed of dangerous canine you feel the need to adorn yourself with.
Picture the scene... It's a Saturday, and the sun is shining. Your beloved bull terrier/whippet/spaniel* is yapping around the sitting room floor, playfully holding it's lead in an effort to drag your grossly overweight, fat-laden frame away from the vital goal replay-replay of last week that's currently being vomited at you by your TV. Deciding that it's better to get this over and done with, you grab the canine by the neck and thrust him into the back seat of the car, where he can 'playfully' vomit all over the upholstery and bark randomly at pedestrians on the pavement. Soon enough, you reach your goal, the local parkland.
I imagine this is how life this Saturday morning passed for the owners of the two dogs who decided to try and eat me while I was riding my (lovely) bike just yesterday. Having decided to eschew the advantages of a lead for the sake of pure laziness, these fine up-standing folk thought that their beloved poo-factory of a dog would be absolutely fine without their lead. And, no doubt, they would have been completely fine, had the countryside been populated with nothing but trees and the occasional shrub. Unfortunately for me, I was to become a doggy-treat this day.
The first occasion was forgivable. I passed the dog with three feet to spare, and the dog tried to keep up with me, running alongside as I cycled up the muddy hill. How cute. Cute, that is, until the canine dope decided that my revolving feet would make a tasty snack, at which point he lunged, and dug his teeth into the left shoe. Luckily, the structure of the footwear held tight, resisting the undoubtedly vast pressure from the stupid dog's jaws. A minor irritation, which I can handle, albeit with a few choice swearwords as I cycle away...
Then, not more than 10 minutes later, the very same devil-dog appears again as I tentatively snake my way down a perilous decent. Having had new disc brakes fitted to my steed just one day previous, I was hesitant to go full-bore down the slope, should the brakes decide to display some previously-unknown manufacturing fault, and so I was merely trundling down the hill as the filthy animal tried 3 times to pierce the armour of my shoe. Luckily for me and my so-far tetanus-free bloodstream, my four-legged foe's teeth did not penetrate the soft, supple skin of my plates of meat. Disaster averted.
Let's wind on time for an hour or so. I've been in the saddle, blazing the trails for a time and am having a whale of a time. I become suddenly overconfident and attempt a river crossing. Despite smacking my genitals on the stem whilst attempting this (PAIN), I make it over the watery chasm and on to the other side. Buoyed by my victory, I continue towards the car park and my eventual exit from the parkland. But lo, as I cycle along the twisty, muddy path, a stupid dog-type creature bolts from across the waters, through the rapidly progressing river and over to where I was riding. This fella wasn't playing around, and as soon as he reached my side of the waterway, he attempted to take a sizeable chunk out of my right calf. Luckily for me, the last year's worth of cycling has enlarged my calf muscles, and so the pitiful mutt's jaws couldn't grasp onto my soft and juicy flesh - although I'm sure he did leave some kind of mark, as it felt funny for the rest of the ride.
And do you know what was the single most abhorrent, foul, and despicable event throughout this whole tale? Neither of the two dog owners said sorry. Not ONE could be BOTHERED to say a SIMPLE damn APOLOGY for their FILTHY, flea-infested CREATURE. So, from this point on, I will hate all dog-owners. Except people who own Basset Hounds or Labradors, both of which are too damn stupid to do anything besides lick their own genitals. So beware, dog owners. Next time your dog 'playfully' runs alongside a cyclist, don't be too surprised if they kick the stupid pet in it's stupid fat face...
Shortened version: I ride my bike, get bitten by dogs three times, owners don't say sorry, I get furious.
* Or whichever breed of dangerous canine you feel the need to adorn yourself with.
