Animal encounters are the price of sharing the great outdoors with God’s creatures, but perhaps because runners cover so much territory we seem to have more than our share.
I’ve had a gash opened on my calf by a nine-pound yapping monster—on a retractable leash, mind you—and had a huge friendly Labrador follow me on my entire six-mile run. I’ve been chased by yellowjackets and a crow. Evidently I’ve only scratched the surface.
And if you’re on the trail in Australia, watch out for wombats.
Don’t yell, wave your arms or make aggressive movements towards a dog. If it’s a dingo, go ahead and make a sudden loud noise, and continue until it goes away.
Grizzly bear? Play dead. Cougar? Stand and fight.
And then there’s this helpful hint: “A charging polar bear should be interpreted as a bear intent on injuring a person.”
Thanks for the safety tip.
I’m a runner, not Marlin Perkins. I picture myself being eaten alive by raccoons or fruit bats while I rummage through my mental files for the appropriate response.
Women runners have one additional animal nuisance to deal with, but don’t worry. Squirt water in his face and he’ll leave you alone.