This actually happened to me many years ago when I was riding a different bike altogether. A 1989 1100 Katana with various hot mods, if it matters! Anyhoo, I was up riding in the local mountains, the Crestline area. Mid-summer, everything was beautiful up on the mountain and traffic was rather low. Might have been a weekday, I don't recall.
Somewhere along the way, I stopped at a little podunk gas station to fill up. No sooner had I turned the pump on and was just about to put the spout into my bike's tank, a rottweiler ran around the corner of the gas station, barking and snarling and flinging slobber from his fangs of death. Time stood still and I saw my death coming at me in a form similar to that of the legendary Cujo.
Luck was with me that day, though. Sorta. The owner of the station, a redneck in every sense of the word, came running out from behind the gas station a couple of lengths behind the dog. He was cursing and swearing and angry as hell. I think his fangs might have been longer even than the dogs. He was grizzled and mean and I wasn't sure which one to fear the most.
However, he grabbed the dog moments before he could jump me. He dragged the poor animal over to me, snatched the gas nozzle from my hand and stuffed it down the dog's throat. Yup. As I stood there in shock, he squeezed the handle for a few moments, then turned the dog loose.
Poor thing. Now free of the iron grip of its owner, it ran around in circles next to the pump, howling and yelping until it collapsed there next to the pump.
Unbelievable.
--Wag--
Somewhere along the way, I stopped at a little podunk gas station to fill up. No sooner had I turned the pump on and was just about to put the spout into my bike's tank, a rottweiler ran around the corner of the gas station, barking and snarling and flinging slobber from his fangs of death. Time stood still and I saw my death coming at me in a form similar to that of the legendary Cujo.
Luck was with me that day, though. Sorta. The owner of the station, a redneck in every sense of the word, came running out from behind the gas station a couple of lengths behind the dog. He was cursing and swearing and angry as hell. I think his fangs might have been longer even than the dogs. He was grizzled and mean and I wasn't sure which one to fear the most.
However, he grabbed the dog moments before he could jump me. He dragged the poor animal over to me, snatched the gas nozzle from my hand and stuffed it down the dog's throat. Yup. As I stood there in shock, he squeezed the handle for a few moments, then turned the dog loose.
Poor thing. Now free of the iron grip of its owner, it ran around in circles next to the pump, howling and yelping until it collapsed there next to the pump.
Unbelievable.
--Wag--
