Barking Back

Under some duress during today’s ride, I realized that my “NO! NO! NONONONONONO!” probably sounded like barking to the three country dogs who were chasing me. To them, I must have looked like a pink leopard with horns. On the plus side, I hit a new max wattage, 581. (Please do not laugh. This is coming from a woman who averaged 111—yes, you’re reading that right—on a dead-flat HIM course. Guess what my resolution for 2009 is?)

When the next pack, this one of an Australian shepherd and his pal, gave chase (or, given the shepherd’s instinct, herded me), I spaced out my “No. NO. NO!” It worked much better.
Soon afterward, I passed a house with a sign reading BAD DOG. I didn’t stop to get a picture, but I did pause to snap the one above. I like the sign, but apparently someone with a gun does not. I was tempted many other times to stop: I passed R FAMILY LN, RABBIT HARE RD, a wild turkey, and soon after, tame turkeys living in a pen with goats.
I was traveling a familiar route in reverse. Having underestimated the distance considerably, I had a lot of time to wonder why I didn’t see the dogs when I passed their homes every Friday in September and October, and to think about how things come in threes. When I spied the third dog, I was ready to sprint. He never even looked at me as I passed five feet away.
Got any good dog-versus-bike stories?

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