How I was almost mauled by a pack of dogs

When I walked in the door this past Friday, I told my wife she was almost a widow. (Seriously.) Let me explain...

I'm out in California right now visiting the in-laws. They live at the end of a dirt road and right next to their property is an Indian reservation. I run 2.5 miles everyday, so about 10am I decide to head out for my run. Because I'm in the nutso state of California I do not have a gun on me.

Well, I'm huffing and puffing along this dirt road when all of the sudden a big black dog comes out of nowhere and starts charging at me while barking ferociously. My first instinct is to go for my gun, which, of course, is not there. And, since I'm in the middle of the desert, there is nothing around. Luckily, there happens to be one of those Waste Management dumpsters nearby.

I sprint towards the dumpster and hurl myself on top of it, as the dog barely misses taking a chunk out of me. The dog stands on its hind legs, scratching the side of the dumpster and continues to bark. Almost immediately, four more dogs appear so there are five dogs surrounding this dumpster, all on their hind legs, trying to get to me.

For about five minutes...

My head is on a swivel as I look around to make sure that one of the dogs isn't suddenly going to make the leap of a lifetime and get to me. Finally, I see a little old Indian woman walking towards me. She looks like she's about 109 years old and I'm hoping she doesn't die before she gets to me.

When she’s within 20 yards of the dumpster she says to me, "those dogs won't hurt you, don't be afraid, you can get down now." Keep in mind, as she says this there are still five dogs trying to climb up the side of the dumpster to get to me, barking like crazy. I told her I didn't think it was a good time for me to get down and I would wait for her to get her dogs.

She ended up getting all five dogs and took them into a fenced-in yard. I then hopped off the dumpster, noticed a huge bruise on my shin from my Olympic-like leap onto it, and headed back to home.

Now, to tell you the truth...

There have previously been two times in my life where I thought I might end up meeting my maker. This is the third time. When I was standing in the shower afterwards I kept thinking about what would have happened if that dumpster wasn't around. (One of my thoughts was that if I'd survived, I might be first man in history to kill a pack of dogs with a tactical pen.)

I was also a little ticked off that I was in California. I wasn't ticked off that California is a state full of crazies, I was ticked off that I had chosen to go there and I had chosen to go running without a gun. The fact is, I hear people all of the time complain about living in New Jersey, or Maryland, or New York, but each one of them makes the choice to live there.

The beauty of living in this country is we have the freedom to live where we want. Anyway, not that I needed the reminder, but I think it's pretty safe to say it will be a cold day in you-know-where before I move to California.

Beyond not moving to California, the moral of the story is to have a gun with you when exercising (if you legally can) because there are numerous incidents every year where people are mauled by dogs.