Meeting the Enemy

There’s a spot on my route to and from the papershop known as Growly Dog Hill, because there’s a collie dog who lives at the house there whose dearest wish is to get out the gate and bite the cyclist’s leg off. Being a collie, she’s brighter than the average mutt so she doesn’t just bark furiously as I approach, oh no. She waits silently right by the gate and just as I pass the gate unleashes either a bark or a growl, invariably startling me out of my skin (I’m not a collie, so I am clearly not bright enough to remember that this happens every single time I ride past).

Anyway, I now know she’s a she because I met her owner out the other day walking her and her sister. I thought I recognised him and guessed that this was my nemesis, which he confirmed. It’s all about context with dogs, clearly, because despite the fact that here she was within biting distance of the dread cyclist, she just totally ignored me while her sister happily said hello and got her ears scratched – or then again, perhaps she was just trying to lull me into a false sense of security. ‘They’re very different personalities, despite being sisters,’ he commented. ‘Well, perhaps that’s sisters everywhere…’

I wasn’t on the bike today, which was probably sensible because with the wind I would have likely taken off, if not been blown into the next county. So I haven’t yet ridden past Growly Dog’s stronghold yet since meeting her in person. I will be interested to see whether our having been introduced makes any difference to her stated desire to bite my leg off.

And also whether, having written all this, I remember anything about it until she once more startles me right out of my skin.

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4 Responses to Meeting the Enemy

  1. Bob says:

    It could very well be the bike that the dog has the aversion to. Not YOU! Good Heavens!
    A dog owned by one of my nieces, who was exceedingly clever, nonetheless was dead set on growling at bikes and skateboards. Perfectly understandable. At least in the case of those noisy skateboards.
    Get off the bike and walk by (if you remember) and see what happens.

  2. disgruntled says:

    I was on the bike when I met them, but obviously nowhere near their territory. I have walked past and also got the treatment on foot – I suspect it’s not personal, it’s just everybody

  3. […] next port of call was the place where my old enemy Growly Dog lives and it’s a similar arrangement of flimsy gate, narrow slotted letterbox, and rabidly […]

  4. […] myself running out of gears, until I worked out that I was on Growly Dog Hill (named after the collie which regularly terrorised me on the papershop run), which has a sharp little kick half way up it. […]

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