What to do about pit bulls belonging to homeless people along the Folsom-Sacramento, CA bike trail?
On Sun, 4 Apr 2021 19:47:17 -0400, Frank Krygowski
On 4/3/2021 11:18 PM, John B. wrote:
On Sat, 03 Apr 2021 22:13:59 -0400, James Kalb wrote:
"j" == John B writes:
j On Mon, 14 Aug 2017 13:38:22 -0400, Frank Krygowski
On 8/13/2017 1:49 AM, John B. wrote:
One day I stopped at the light and there was a woman on a
small motor bike there also. When the light turned green
off we went with her in the lead and, of course, out came
the dogs. Instead of running for it, as I had been doing
the woman stopped the motor bike and (it was one of those
step through Honda's) stood up and shouted at the dogs (in
a commanding voice) to "Get out of here!". "Get gone you
mutts!". "Now, Get!".The dogs stopped so short that they
almost skidded and turned tail and ran.
I never had the nerve to do that (we do have rabies here)
but I've always wished I dared. After all I was a Master
Sergeant in the Air Force and my "command voice" *should*
be as powerful as that of a Thai Farm Wife.... shouldn't
Decades ago, while still down south, my wife and I were on a
country ride when we passed though a sort of trashy area
with a bunch of delapidated houses and house trailers. We'd
been chased before by dogs in that area, but for some reason
I didn't have the rocks ready. Maybe it was before I worked
out the rock technique.
This time a pack of about ten or twelve came running out
after us. The lead dogs were soon just a meter or so from
our right feet, with the others close behind.
j Are you sure that it was "our" right feet?
j Early in our married life we lived a bit out of town where
j the quickest way to the village was by walking down a dike
j between two rice paddies. One day we were walking down the
j dike to town and a water buffalo came running down the dike
j toward us. He was probably a hundred, or maybe more, meters
j from us when we saw him and we sort of huddled there, I was
j wondering whether to jump in the paddy when the buffalo
j turned onto an intersecting dike and disappeared in the
j I turned to my wife who was still sort of crouched behind me
j and said something like, "Here! Why are you behind me?" She
j replied, "You are my husband and you are supposed to take
j care of me."
j -- Cheers,
j John B.
Fifty years ago I was teaching at a vocational agricultural high
school in Helmand Province, Afghanistan (now Forward Operating Base
Delhi, Prince Harry was there in better times). One day I was
walking across a field toward the bazaar, watching a caravan of
Baluchi nomads go by, when one of their dogs decided it didn't like
me and charged.
This was a big solid animal, bred for fighting and guard duty, with
its tail and ears cropped. I was convinced I was about to die, but
thought I should go down fighting, so I reached down to pick up a
rock so I could get in a few bashes before my demise.
He cowered. I was startled. My fellow teachers, who were watching
from a safe distance, asked "tarsidi?" (were you afraid?). I was
stunned enough to admit I was.
I've found that reaching down and then raising one's arm as if to
throw seems to be recognized by dogs throughout South East Asia,
certainly in Indonesia, Malaysia and Thailand.
I learned this in Indonesia when I was on foot and being menaced by a
rather large dog. While I was standing there wondering whether to run
or not a small kid - maybe 8 or 9 years old - came walking down the
road and the dog switch his attention to the kid, who just reached
down and then made as though to throw a stone and the dog ran off.
People have been throwing stones at dogs for many millenia. I think it's
not surprising that dogs have learned to be wary of it.
True, but I wonder whether this has become an instinct or just a
There are a bunch of dogs on the road where I take my morning walk.
Tomorrow I'll fake throwing a stone at them to see how they react.