I have been running for, well, weeks now. I don't know how long exactly. Since between April & May bookclub, like that clears it up. Mostly it sucks. But overall it sucks less than it did; I do not imagine there will ever be a time when it sucks not at all.
One thing that does not suck is my route. It is mostly well shaded, mostly on dirt road, over all scenic & pleasant. There is not much traffic except during melon or berry harvest & even then I am a familiar enough sight that most of the drivers slow down so as not to bury me in sand (I still come home, brush my teeth & spit sand out, but that is like on a dirt road during a drought; that would happen whether I ran the route or just weeded the roses in the front yard).
Recently I added a bit more distance & as it happens this takes me not even 1/4 mile down a paved road, past 1/2 a dozen ordinary neighborhood houses. Yesterday in front of one of these houses I almost got much too close to a very fit, very well cared for, very well trained Doberman Pinscher.
I was running past the house. I was in the street (there is no sidewalk & I only go up on to the grass when there is a car coming towards me or the water level is over the tops of my sneakers). I do not run with ear buds. I did not have either of my "dangerous breed" dogs on a lead with me. I heard a small yappy dog, turned my head & saw a white west highland looking terrier type coming across the lawn & maybe 4 feet away, getting into a crouch position was a garden variety doberman. It was not particularly large, but it was less than two full bounds away.
I screamed "Hey Hey" & ran backwards towards the center of the road & the lady of the house came either around the side of the house or out of the open garage (you can imagine what I was looking at & believe I was not scanning the background for people). She called the dog by name, both dogs IMMEDIATELY stood down & walked back towards her. After she had them she kept calling "I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry" as I continued my run around the corner & away.
& that was the whole thing, attack-wise. The scariest part is of course the complete silence of the attack dog. Funnily enough, I run past (twice actually as this part of the route is a double back) another house with a doberman & a different breed (bigger breed) of very vocal sidekick every single run. That dobie is also the strong silent type, mostly hangs back but occasionally lopes to the fence. That's right, those people have 5 foot high fence. All of us, me the dogs, we are all clear what side of the fence we belong on & I am sure that makes all the difference.
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