As if the rain and the cold wasn’t bad enough, on this morning’s commute I got attacked by a mutt!
This Snowy-like creature bounded out of nowhere as I struggled to climb The Broad Walk in Kensington Palace Gardens. He snapped at my rear wheel, had a go at my feet and then, in a fit of excitement, decided to bite my front tyre. All the while his owner, a gentleman out of my field of vision, kept calling out "Snowball! Snowball!"
Friggin’ snowball, I muttered under my breath, at about the same moment my front wheel collided with the dog’s back. Shit, I thought, I’ve run over him!
But this mutt was made of strong stuff: no howls or squealing, just more yap-yap-yapping. He was still trying to wrap his teeth around my right pedal when he was joined by a similar-sized dog with sturdy legs and a defiant BARK. This little critter, with a splotchy black-and-grey short-haired coat, was like Rocky Balboa: reluctant to give up and bossy too, shoving Snowball out the way as if to say, "She’s all mine! Find your own cyclist to eat!"
So, just as I lost one dog, another more feisty, more determined, more persistent one took its place! Brilliant!
As I made a right turn to cycle along the path that skirts the Round Pond, the bloody thing was still chasing me. I caught the eye of one cyclist heading my way who gave me a big smile. I guess it did look pretty funny.
I’m not sure how I got rid of him in the end. Perhaps it was the furious pedalling and a lot of loud swearing that had something to do with it!