Is motorized cycling robbing the dog of a fun walk?
With more than 300 olfactory receptors, dogs smelling around outside is like social media scrolling for humans
I saw the bicyclist under the viaduct, and a fairly large dog poked his head out from one side of the dog owner. Considering my own dog, Junee, hates the sound of trains, I already knew she was going to stand like a statue if there was a train moving on the viaduct. Add in a large dog coming her way, and that doubled the walking confusion. So, I stepped to the side, short-leashed Junee and waved the bicyclist forward to go past me on the sidewalk.
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Expecting the dog to run alongside him, instead I realized he was on a motorized scooter and the dog’s leash was tied along the back. The faster he rode, the faster the dog had to run to keep up. And from behind, it looked more like the dog was being yanked by the neck collar instead of running. I winced, not sure what to do next. One wrong move, and this dog could end up getting hit by the rear wheel or choked.
To my relief, as soon as the scooter owner got a few feet away from me, he got off his bike to readjust the dog and the leash. My shoulders loosened, realizing that he caught on to how unsafe this looked.
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When a moped comes in handy for dog walking
I’ve always wondered about people who ride their bikes while the dog runs. While it’s a great form of cardio for hyperactive dogs who need a lot of daily exercise, I also know that dogs have approximately 300 million olfactory receptors in their noses. If a dog is running at a high speed, that means the dog is also unable to smell the grass, sniff for other dogs, check out other humans, snoop on plants and a bunch of other ways to enjoy nature.
But then I think about that time one of my bar stools fell over and landed on my toe. Unlike that time I slammed my ear onto a bathtub and had minimal pain (even with a bleeding head like Stephen King’s “Carrie”), this bar stool hurt so much that I wanted to cry. Instead, I gasped and just sat on the stone tile floor. Junee, realizing I was hurt, sat down and leaned on me like a teddy bear — not quite sure how to help me get up.
I don’t know how I managed not to break my toe, but I could still walk. However, the toenail turned black. I hobbled around for two weeks, barely able to walk my dog but refusing to cancel scheduled walks with other neighborhood dogs too. Although I walked like a turtle and a moped would’ve resolved this, the nosiest dogs (including my own) didn’t mind how slow this walk was.