So there I was last night, tooling along at a leisurely 12 mph, determined to get in a ride of about 8 miles or so after dinner. It was a glorious evening...temperature about 70 degrees, little or no wind, and virtually no traffic on my neighborhood loop. The only sounds were an occassional chirping bird, the wind whistling through my helmet, and the sound of rubber meeting the road. It was literally The Perfect Storm.
Without warning, in my peripheral vision I see a furry brown ball looking to cut me off and then a blood curdling high pitched scream, Noooooooooooooooo! Darting across a lawn to my right was a Pomerianian, hell bent on giving chase. I swerved to avoid the critter and took off, leaving him in the dust, although he didn't quit for about 100 feet. Heck, I know it was a little dog but they still have teeth.
Well, I had about 2 miles to go to meet my goal for the night and decided not to tempt fate and the dog owners wrath (although he should have been on a leash) by making another pass. I also didn't want to run over the dog or have my rather bony ankle become a dog treat so I decided to change my route for the last two miles.
My choice of an alternate route, however, left much to be desired.
Once again I hear the familiar, Nooooooooooooo! This time it's a Brown Lab, still a puppy, but twice the size of the Pomeranian. He's coming at me on an angle with the owner in hot pursuit as well. I'm pedaling like hell once again until he gives it up with the owner hanging onto his tail.
At about this point I'm thinking, "What the hecks going on here?" Luckily my 8 miles flashed on the odometer and although I was feeling good and wanted to ride more, the dogs kept getting progressively bigger, and who knew what was around the corner...a Pit Bull?...a Rottweiler?...or Cujo himself?
I headed home and hugged my cat when I got through the door.