Finally, Runner's World on-line posts a piece that combines my two favorite things (besides heroin and tranny hookers): running and dogs. Unfortunately, it's only useful if you're some kind of namby-pamby pantywaist:
What can you do to protect yourself from canines on the run? For answers, we went to dog training expert, Karen Peak, owner of West Wind Dog Training in Prince William County, Va. Below are her tips:
IF YOU ARE CHASED . . .
Slow down. Slow your run to a walk. "The prey instinct dogs have is triggered by fast movement," says Peak. "Slowing down to a walk makes you seem less interesting."
Walking sounds like a great idea. I want to make it as easy as possible for the dog to catch me and chomp my ass. Walking makes you seem less interesting, all right. In the same way it's less interesting to buy a Thanksgiving turkey at the grocery instead of hunting it, shooting it, and cleaning it yourself. Sorry, but that dog's gonna have to earn me. I think the best idea is to get out of the dog's territory as fast as possible. As soon as you leave, he'll leave.
Turn around. Turn and walk in the opposite direction of the dog. Don't stare. "Staring a dog in the eyes can be interpreted as a threat by some dogs," warns Peak. "Keep the dog in sight, but avert direct eye contact."
Don't avert your eyes; you'll lose the dog's respect. Let him know that you're the one with the cerebral cortex and opposable thumb, and you're not about to take any shit. And what's this walking in the opposite direction nonsense? If you let the dog tell you where you can go, the dog has won. And so have the terrorists.
Be boring. If the dog approaches you, stop and stand very still. The more boring you are, the less you'll interest the dog.
See "Slow down," above. The only thing worse than walking is to stop entirely. Yeah, let the dog size you up, get a running start and really take aim at your crotch. Sounds like a great plan.
Report it. If an aggressive dog continually threatens you on a run, choose a different route and file a report with animal control.
Once again, you follow this advice and you've let an animal with a brain 1/4 the size of yours (it's science) tell you what you can and can't do. And you're a whiny tattletale to boot. Man up, Nancy!
This is my favorite, though, because it's straight out of A Christmas Story:
IF YOU ARE ATTACKED . . .
Hit the ground. If the dog attacks, cover your head and curl into a ball. "Your best bet in an attack is to minimize access to the soft tissue areas such as your throat, face, and belly," says Peak.
Start yelling. But scream something that you know will get people's attention, such as "Fire!" "Help" may not do it.
Remember when they get ambushed by Scut Farkus ("So help me God, yellow eyes!") and his toadie Grover Dill ("In our neighborhood, you were either a bully, a toadie or among the nameless rabble of victims."), and the little brother who can't put his arms down plays dead? "Andy lay there like a slug. It was his only defense."
Don't be such a fuckin' Mary. Laying down only gives the dog easy access to your throat, face and stomach! He's on four legs, man. Unless it's an Irish wolfhound or a mastiff (in which case you're dead no matter what, so you should spend your last moments praying rather than walking away or stopping), the dog won't be as tall as you. And will respect a well-placed kick to snout or ribs.
My advice is, don't let some dog be Alpha. You be Alpha. You're a grownup for chrissakes.