The dogs of ‘Dogbiscuit’

by tkos on August 17, 2012

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‘We only need to buy one ‘dog dazer’!’ Kimmi says.

‘OK, who gets to carry it?’

‘Good point, let’s get one each.’

We hadn’t carried out an enormous deal of research for this trip, but there is one thing that kept popping up if we Googled ‘cycling’ and ‘Turkey’ and that was getting chased by wild dogs. Packs of them. It’s great that they hunt in packs.

So the Dog Dazers arrive in the post and we were very excited to test them out. They emit a high pitch sound that is inaudible to humans but distracts dogs. However, the small print states that we should not ‘Daze’ around humans. Not really the promising start we were looking for.

A little more research and the internet says that the dog dazers don’t always ‘daze’ them. Sometimes it just sends them a little more berserk, it just depends on the dog. What a fun gamble that sounds like. ‘Apparently’ the best thing to do when a wild and rabid canine is belting down the street after you, you and your 40kg of luggage, is simply to stop and get off your bike.  Oh what fun games we have to look forward to.

The roads in East Central Turkey are desolate with just farmland mixed with a whole bunch of nothing filling in the 50 or 60 km distances between small towns. We are about 150km or so from the Iranian border which translates to about two days for us.

“Hey, we’ve been pretty lucky with dogs so far! Maybe the internet lied to us!’ I say to Kimmi, after a dogless and attack-free four and a bit months cycling. A huff and a puff later, Kimmi rolls her eyes and looks at me like I just slashed her tyres.  It is that well rehearsed look of furious irrational ‘don’t argue, it’s easier to accept that you’re wrong’ anger that inevitably wins all battles. The funny thing with Kimmi is that, she never really believes much of what I say, unless it infers that I have some sort of super human powers over the universe. If I comment about the wind, she believes I have the power to change it. If I comment about the hills, she believes I have the power to change the upcoming geography of the road. She doesn’t believe these things because she thinks I am amazing. She believes these things because then she can blame me for the next hill. And for that I am sorry, again.

And just as my super human cosmic forces prevail once again, we eye a pack of wild dogs at the top of the upcoming hill. Kimmi is hating me right now for planting them there. The dogs are a few meters to the side of the road, rifling through a mound of rubbish. This is their home, this is their turf, this is their family. And we are intruders.

The road ahead is dead straight. There are no alternatives to go another way, we have to pass these wild dogs. With less than a hundred meters to go, the dogs start to rally together. They know we have to get within a few meters to pass, so they don’t bother coming to us. They are waiting for their prey to fall into their trap. They have done this before.

As we slowly approach, the pack forms and the warnings begin. Ferocious snarling, aggressive growling with rabid drool dripping from clenched jaws.  We were in a stand off. A stand off between man and beast.

‘Get the dog dazer!! Daze them, daze them!’ I say to Kimmi.

‘Are you kidding? They might go beserk! Man up and daze them yourself!’.

She was right, this was my time to man up. To protect my woman from the savage beasts before us. To conquer the dangerous and provide a safe haven for us. It was my time to show what sort of man I really am. My natural instincts took control over my body. I looked over at my distressed and vulnerable Kimmi. I looked over at the pack of wild dogs imminently embarking on a ferocious attack and I did what I had to do.

I legged it!

I pedalled as fast as I could away from the pack of angry beasts, further on up the hill. I could hear the barking on my tail and the sound of the footsteps at my back wheel. The dog closest to me only had three legs yet still kept pace. I wasn’t going to be outdone by a three legged mongrel so I used all the adrenaline inside of me and pushed as hard as I could. I only had to make it to the top of the hill as the stroll down will surely give me the edge over the three legged beast. The ferocious barking and the idea of this wild and diseased animal taking a piece out of my leg was telling my brain to keep pedalling, but my lungs and legs were starting to tire. The beast was winning. I had to stop.

I jumped off my pedals and spaced the bike between me and the beast. The dog stopped. Stopped chasing, stopped barking, stopped growling.  It just stopped. I checked back down the road for Kimmi and she was in her own stand off with the remaining dogs. She was giving them the well rehearsed look of furious irrational ‘don’t argue, it’s easier to accept that you’re wrong’ look. And as usual, it was working.

Then Kimmi looked at me, panting hopelessly out of breath and beaten by a three legged mutt. I felt like such a coward, leaving her there stranded with a pack of wild animals, desperately trying to save myself, but then in the end, getting beaten by a disabled dog. What sort of man am I?  I’m never going to hear the end of this.

‘Aww, thanks for distracting all the dogs from me. You saved me, you’re my hero! You’re such a cutie!’

 

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