dog pack attacks

Dogs are not my favorite animals in the world . . . I generally prefer cows and chickens because they are tastier than dog, but that is not the point of this post, I will write about eating dog some other time perhaps. As I was saying dogs are not my favorite animal . . . when I was a kid growing up, it seemed the neighbors always had a LARGE dog and those large dogs were always biting me. I developed a phobia about dogs that was grounded in real experience with their teeth. I am man enough to admit it; I am somewhat afraid of dogs even to this day.

I can manage that fear fine though, through years of a finely developed kick that I can employ when necessary and trust me, if one goes jogging in Russia, that kick is a basic requirement of survival. Here in Macedonia there are lots of dogs out roaming about but generally they leave you alone. On the other hand there appear regular stories in the local papers about people being bitten and attacked by packs of dogs. In fact the Deputy US ambassador here in Skopje was relating to me how one of the embassy employees was attacked and bitten on Mt. Vodno.

Most of this information I relegate to my "barely believable" mental file. Frankly I thought these folks were exaggerating a bit, because almost all Macedonians I know have an unreasonable terror of dogs. And remember this is coming from someone who was bitten repeatedly as a kid and has some experience in these matters. But a recent incident changed my perspective in a fairly dramatic way.

I was jogging along the Vardar river which runs through the city of Skopje on a recent Sunday morning and there was not another person in sight. I had just made the curve that brings Alesander's Palace into view, when a group of howling dogs started running and barking. At first I thought they were running from something, and then I thought, "no, they are running after something" and I started looking around me to see if there were some cats, or other dogs nearby, or perhaps maybe a squirrel. Of course this all happened in a flash, but I came to the stunning realization that these 6-8 dogs were heading for me!

Now I usually deal with dogs in a very aggresive manner, which makes 99 out of a 100 turn tail and run . . . but 6-8 of them?? I did not like these odds at all. So I stopped dead in my tracks thinking maybe my jogging was agitating them and they thought I was up for a game of tag or some lunacy like that. No, as they came tearing up the bank and surrounded me, it became clear that I was the object of more potential savagery than a simply friendly game of tag.

I did mention that I was jogging right? Well I unfortunately have found that carrying a Louisville Slugger with me while jogging is really difficult . . . it upsets your balance and all that endomorphine stuff . . . but at that moment I would have given a month's allowance (Ok two month's allowance) for a baseball bat or a whip . . . anything to balance the odds some. So instead I improvised.

The city planners had recently planted young maple trees every 7 meters or so apart on this very path that I was jogging on . . . hmmmm . . . surrounded by 6-8 snarling, barking, salivating teeth-bared and large dogs . . . I grabbed the maple, bent it to dog-head height and used it as a sweep to keep the animals some distance from me. Unfortunately even with my adrenaline running high-test through my system, I ws not able to uproot the tree and use it like the baseball bat I was yearning for . . . so a mexican (or rather macedonian) standoff of sorts emerged. The dogs could not get to me without getting beaned with the sweeping maple, and I could not leave the tree for fear of bleeding.

This went on for about 2-3 minutes, and I can tell you seemed like hours . . . but finally I reached down to the ground to find some rocks to extended the reach of the potential damage I could do to my protagonists . . . and I came up empty. There were no rocks nearby! So I decided to fake it . . . just act like I had rocks in my hand and was going to throw them.

Incredible!! The pack immediately, instantly took off!! Obviously their experience with rock throwing humans was indeed significant. As their tails disappeared around the corner and I began to calm my racing heart, I slowly resumed my jog home . . . and I thought to myself, I need some pepper spray or something to defend myself from the wiles of a dog pack gone wild.

The same applies to my spiritual self . . . satan walks about as a roaring lion seeking someone to devour . . . and that I need to put on the whole armor of God . . . satan and his minions response should be similar the dog pack, armor up and they should run! That is Dr. D's diagnosis of the day.

BTW, here is a picture of me taken at another time, but the look on my face is pretty close to my jogging face that day.