Survival of the Fittest: Running with the Big Dogs

Author seeks advice on canine encounters.

"The only thing we have to fear," Franklin Delano Roosevelt famously said, "is fear itself," but there is a reason why his is not one of the faces on Mount Rushmore. From shin splints to heel spurs, we runners have plenty of dire scenarios to ponder. And let's not forget about the occasional $150 pair of sneakers hurled from close range by a spouse or loved one who claims you spend "all your time" running.

Still, you can always duck these, put in an appearance at breakfast, etc. Harder to elude is the danger that comes not from someone, but something, a creature that seems to rise out of the early morning mists and then go back to sleep on the porch after it is through bringing your worst nightmares to life. In short, it is a large, loose suburban dog.

If you comb through the vast technical literature, you will find a world of well-intentioned advice for runners encountering dogs that have yet to hear of the Geneva Conventions. Even so, I have my doubts about some of these writings. For one thing, they are not generally available those times when you have an urgent need to consult them. For another, they too often disregard our basic "fight-or-flight" response, which in some situations should probably be shortened to include only the second part.

Apparently, I made a big mistake the summer morning I sprinted down Flood's Hill to escape a pit bull with a severe personality disorder. Emerging from behind a tree, my attacker ambushed me as I was nearing the end of what had been a relaxing four-mile run. Jolted into a state of high alert, I responded as prey, which in a sense I was. But, as I later learned, you're not supposed to admit this to the dog.

If I had not been working so hard to improve on Usain Bolt's record for the hundred meters, though, I could easily have justified my giving in to being chased. How, I might have asked, would stopping mid-run and trying to pass myself off as an inert object accomplish anything other than to insult my enemy's intelligence? After all, an object that was truly inert would not need to pay more than $45 for a pair of sneakers.

And the same could be said for wild arm-waving, sudden tango moves and other efforts to convince the dog that you are crazy. Most pit bulls have watched enough late-night cable movies to know bad acting when they see it.

Over the years I have found that negative interactions with dogs can be divided into two kinds. In one the dog is trying to guard its territory or "turf." In the other the dog is looking to expand it.

In most cases where there is a tether-less dog barking at me from its front lawn, the only thing to do is pick up speed and hope those invisible fences really do work. Still, how many of us would feel safe with only an invisible fence between us and the wolves at the Turtle Back Zoo? I imagine the sheep would be pretty nervous too. The point of a fence, it seems to me, is to be visible to both parties. That way if there is any confusion about it later, no one can say they thought all the signs were part of a campaign to promote a more open border with Canada.

In cases where the dog is not protecting its turf but engaged in empire building, you might try pointing out that Canada was once part of the British empire but now seems much happier as an independent nation.

Some thousands of years ago, scientists tell us, dogs became our best friends. No one is quite sure how this happened, or why exactly we first started sitting together at lunch. But the point is that it is too late to go back. The hyenas or whatever it was we socialized with before we became so stuck-up are no longer interested.

As intensely loyal creatures (whatever their other faults may be), dogs have no plans to move on either. It is cats that remain open to a better offer. But when these have long forgotten their human benefactors, dogs will still be patrolling suburbia and keeping a sharp lookout for suspicious behavior. And running is, almost by definition, suspicious. Why are we in such a hurry and where is it we are going that the dress code seems to require so much tight spandex?

Still, all this does not mean we cannot stay aware of our surroundings and, if nothing else works, find a way to use them to our advantage. For instance, in my own case, even as the pit bull was chasing me, I remained alert to the fact that I lived nearby and would be OK if I managed to lose him on the way home, since my phone number and address are unlisted. Admittedly, such quick thinking did not save my life. But it was comforting, and when the dog lost interest in me and began chewing apart some food trash, I had the satisfaction of knowing that, of the two of us, I had had the more focused plan.

We do not have to embark on our runs empty-handed. There are high-pitched ultrasonic dog repellers to be purchased as well as pepper spray, though the danger with these is that the more dim-witted species may think you are not trying to repel them so much as playing hard to get. So buyer beware! One article in The Huffington Post on "Why Runners Hate Dogs" even suggested rewarding dog owners for the good behavior of their dogs. Here I would recommend carrying lightweight treats, preferably tuna sandwiches and beer nuts.

But when all is said and done, the best advice may have come from the Roosevelt whose face is on Mount Rushmore: speak softly and carry a big stick.