When I take Sierra and Bodhi to the park, I allow them to run off-leash in the nether-regions of dirt trails and brush where we seldom encounter other people. The pair romp around the hillsides, just about levitating with joy, chasing bunnies and sniffing intently at bushes. They come when called, receive slices of hot dogs as rewards, and are then released to go explore some more. We all love it. When we traverse the more populated areas of the park, though, the two are on leash.
This morning, as we walked along the cement path that connects the front and back parts of the park, I visually scanned the area as I chatted with a park acquaintance. I spied a young man who we sometimes see on his skateboard, which is pulled by a huge, muscular pit bull who weighs at least 80 pounds. When these guys go flying by, it often sets other dogs off—but hey, the guy’s got a right to be there like everyone else. At the moment, he was speeding down the cement path we were on, moving in our direction. I got the dogs over to the side and had them sit. I wouldn’t say they were calm, but they were behaving, keeping it together in the face of something pretty exciting. As the pair approached, though, Bodhi completely lost it. He gave a sudden, mighty lunge and actually pulled the leash out of my hand. He bolted toward the man and his dog, who were just passing us. I called for Bodhi to come; the request started out in a calm training voice and quickly ended up escalating into a scream as Bodhi approached the pair.
The guy stopped, dismounted, and in a fast, fluid movement, grabbed his dog and placed his body in front of him. Although Bodhi isn’t aggressive, the pit bull, judging from his behavior, definitely was. The guy apparently knew this, as he said in a carefully controlled, edge-of-panic voice, “Please grab your dog.” He repeated it non-stop like a mantra. Of course, that’s exactly what I needed to do, and believe me, I was trying. If you’ve ever broken up a dog fight, you know how hard it is to grab one of the dogs. Bodhi was darting in and out, circling, stupidly excited, clueless of the danger he was in . I’ve never claimed that Bodhi is the brightest bulb in the string. Fortunately, I still have pretty good reflexes. That, along with a strong desire for Bodhi not to meet an untimely death, prompted me to throw myself bodily at Bodhi, concrete be damned. I grabbed hold of his collar, and came down hard on my wrist and rear. I was also holding Sierra, who, miraculously, was not reacting at all—I think the whole thing amused her. (The man I was walking with was of no use in this type of situation, which I knew in advance was the case, hence my not even handing Sierra off to him.) I apologized to Skateboard Guy, saying Bodhi had pulled the leash out of my hand. Shaken, he took off.
Normally I’d say this type of incident was prey drive related, but with Bodhi it probably was food related, since some of the morning dog walkers give treats to passing dogs, and Bodhi always takes advantage. (When we first got him, he was afraid of men and allowing him to take treats from these guys really helped.) The incident was frightening and upsetting, but luckily, that’s all it was. It could have ended up with Bodhi being badly injured or killed—and it wouldn’t have been the pit bull owner’s fault, either. He did exactly the right thing by shielding his dog with his body (or, more precisely, shielding Bodhi from his dog) and telling me to grab my dog. Had the pit bull attacked Bodhi, I really couldn’t say it was his fault, either. The dog was minding his own business, pulling his owner down the road when a dog lunged at him. He reacted. I’m also glad nothing happened for the pit bull’s sake, as the breed’s already got enough breed-specific prejudices to deal with. As for me, I normally have a solid hold on the leashes. If something had happened to either dog, I would have felt terrible, of course. But stuff happens, and I’m not one for beating myself up; besides, I’m pretty beat up already, with scrapes, a bruised wrist, and a serious ache that predicts a visit to the chiropractor. Still, that’s getting off easy. Clearly, if we see the dynamic duo again, we’ll make a point of going the other way. I can do without any more near death experiences, thank you very much.
You can find my books, including Hit by a Flying Wolf detailing my further adventures with Bodhi, Sierra, and wolves, along with seminar DVDs and seminar schedule at http://www.nicolewilde.com.