So in my post yesterday, I wrote about some wildlife encounters I’ve had while running. I’ve since remembered a few others.
Dogs. I am a dog person, but not when I’m running. I can’t tell you how many times dogs have come charging at me. It especially happens whenever I run with my (leashed) dogs. Almost every time it happens because the dog’s owner doesn’t have him/her on a leash, and aren’t pack leader enough to make them stay by their side without one. Sometimes the dog is a stray or escaped from it’s home. I’m sorry, but when a dog comes at me barking, I am going to kick it or throw something at it. I don’t care if the owners are there or not, I don’t want to get bit. The owners never get mad at me for doing so, they’re too busy apologizing…I rarely accept their apologies. I will tell you this, the one time I didn’t kick a little barking dog that came at me, it bit me. It turned into a whole big thing with animal control, emergency rooms, quarantine, rabies tests, etc. What a mess. I should’ve followed my instinct and kicked it, but I was trying to be nice. Don’t worry, after it bit me, I kicked it good in the head and it scurried off whimpering, all while the owner apologized.
Skunks. Nothing makes me alter my course more than coming across a skunk. Recently I came across a couple of them on a paved trail I was running on through a neighborhood. I stopped dead in my tracks and slowly backed up. Luckily they ignored me and eventually left the trail so I could continue on (only after I let them get far away). I will never do anything to piss a skunk off cause I don’t want to get sprayed. My one friend actually did get sprayed by one on one of his runs. No thank you! I don’t want to have to bathe in Chef Boyardee Ravioli, or whatever the remedy is.
Roosters. This one actually freaked me out the most. I was in Guam and was about to go for a run, when our hosts looked at me in dis-belief. They couldn’t believe I was going to run with all the wild roosters out there. I didn’t get what the big deal was, but they said they’re very territorial. They also explained that many of them had escaped or been set free after being trained for cock-fighting. Then they gave me a metal pipe to run with in case I had to defend myself. I had never been scared of a chicken before, but was so freaked out that I ran in a circle around the block over and over, too afraid to venture out and suffer the wrath of a territorial cock. After that, I did all my runs on the roster-less beaches!