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California Riding Magazine • August, 2010 California Riding by Joy Bruce |
Joy and Sundance enjoying a trail ride in Imperial Beach. It was Saturday May 15th, around noon, when my friend John and I went riding near San Diego County’s Fallbrook, on the Santa Margarita trail. It was warm and sunny and we were looking forward to a beautiful ride through the shady trees and many cool water crossings. About 20 minutes along the trail from the main staging area off Pico, we were coming to our second water crossing. We could hear people and children and I shouted out to them that riders were coming. We couldn’t see them yet because of the heavy river brush and trees. We wanted to give them a heads up so they would be calm and not scare the horses as well as make sure their children were safely I led the way on Sundance, my Missouri Foxtrotter, and John was about 50 feet behind me on Riley, his Quarter Horse. From around a blind corner I stepped into the water and began to head across when all hell broke loose. Four Pit Bull dogs and one Husky dog charged me from about 45 feet away. Initially I didn’t run. My horse stood still, calmly facing them, having experienced that dogs are less likely to pursue an attack when their prey is not running. I yelled loudly: “Bad dog! No! Go home!” but there was not even the slightest acknowledgement or hesitation from the pack of dogs. Snarling and growling, saliva streaming from their mouths, all five grown dogs leapt at Sundance and me. Sundance reared slightly and pawed the air, striking one Pit Bull, as he spun around to take off running. On the turn, the adrenaline-infused Pit Bulls and Husky charged Sundance’s hindquarters. Two Pit Bulls jumped up onto his hips and I felt them scrambling to grab my back when Sundance bucked high, throwing both Pit Bulls over my left shoulder. I felt him kick out as his legs were coming down from bucking and heard another Pit Bull get slammed into the water. As Sundance began to run, I felt him kick out with every step, sometimes hearing the thud of his hooves connecting with the enraged dogs, but I never heard a yelp. Sundance was sinking almost to his knees in the sand and water, which critically impaired his ability to escape. The dogs didn’t sink and were gaining on him within a few seconds of retreat. Each kick only served to enrage the dogs more. Over and over he spun around a dozen times or more to face them. Pinning his ears, biting and striking at the dogs, his legs flying with lightning speed, he would try again to run away but the five big dogs were too much for him. Several minutes had now passed, the attack had escalated into a frenzy and I could feel Sundance beginning to tire. In that moment, I felt the sickening realization that neither Sundance nor I would survive if the attack continued much longer. Helpless Dog Owners Terrified, I was screaming at the owners to grab their dogs before Sundance and/or I fell and would get torn to pieces by the enraged dogs. They ran towards their dogs but stood helplessly nearby fearing their own dogs in a full on attack. Running for our lives, Sundance ran for the trees but they were thick as a wall. Cornered now, all five dogs surrounded us, jumping at us, teeth barred, growling and salivating, their ears flattened. I kicked one Pit Bull in the nose as he lunged for my leg. Sundance was repeatedly striking and kicking as fast as he could. He struck another Pit Bull that leapt at his shoulder, knocking it down. He dodged a Pit Bull attacking his face, bit him on the back in mid-air and threw him down. He struck out like lightning at the Husky, hit him and sent him running away. The Pit Bulls got up and came in for what I believe was the kill. Sundance became like a wild stallion defending his herd and I felt like I was part of that herd. Sundance was fighting for my life too. The four Pit Bulls closed in, coming at his belly from both sides. They were underneath my stirrups going for his underbelly when Sundance jumped high in the air, kicking and pawing the air furiously as he went. I heard more thuds. He hit the shallow water running full speed away in the direction of the dog’s owners. Miraculously, Sundance, with his legs flailing, escaped what was certain to be an ugly and bloody ending when the owners lunged and grabbed a hold of their dogs after Sundance jumped over them. Like an airplane propeller, his fast and fierce hoof strikes, kicks and bites had saved us after repeated attacks and bought us the fraction of time needed for the owners to finally grab the dogs on the run. Incredibly, Sundance and I had teeth scrapes yet none of the dogs had actually gotten a bite hold on us! Had they gotten a bite grip, they would have to have been pried off with a “break bar” to unlock their jaws. The scars leftover are the emotional trauma for Sundance and me. I shudder to think what our fate could have been but for the grace of God. John and Riley were far enough behind me that when Riley heard the dogs charging me, he spun around scared and took off running out of control. John struggled to get him under control but couldn’t. Riley was too frightened and wouldn’t settle down until John jumped off him and got control of him on the ground. John heard me screaming but was helpless to do anything until he got Riley under control. Afraid of what he’d find, he rushed to my aid, barely able to hold onto Riley, who was still jumping around in fear. Shaken and terrified, I yelled some angry words and told the owners I would be filing a police report. They responded, ”We have a right to be here and the police are only going to give us a ticket for not having our dogs on a leash.” Sadly, without massive injuries or death, they are probably right. They were full-arm tattooed, had piercings, spiked hair and attitude, and I was too scared to ask any questions while they held the Pit Bulls by a mere shoulder harness. John got back to the water crossing in time to hear my angry words and their response. He told them he’d have shot the dogs if he’d had a gun at the time. And that brings me to my point in telling you our story. What Would You Do? What do you think would have happened to Sundance and me had he fallen down or I had fallen off into the jaws of that pack? This could have happened to you, your child, your horse, etc. Imagine the terror of four big Pit Bulls and a Husky dog attacking you over and over, your horse or a loved one. What would you do? How can we stop, or better yet, prevent an attack by dogs bred to kill or a pack of dogs, wild animals and/or companion type dogs bred to retrieve or herd while out trail riding? Riding for 50-plus years, I have been blissfully leaving the safety of my horse and me in the hands of others who supposedly have their dogs under control and on a leash. That proved to be an almost fatal mistake for Sundance and me. Previous encounters with dogs bred to retrieve or herd were resolved by facing them, yelling at them and not running. Not so with the Pit Bulls or with those under the influence of the pack mentality. Please open discussions on this topic and let me know your ideas. An attack of some sort on horseback is something all of us trail riders should be prepared for. As for John and myself, there is no doubt in our minds that Sundance, my beautiful and courageous Missouri Foxtrotter, saved my life, albeit the rodeo ride of my life! I am grateful to God for this horse and for the strength to have held on while he fought the jaws of death. I wonder how many more family pets, children, people or livestock need to be mauled, mutilated or killed before we legislate a separate classification of dogs who have been bred to kill? I pose this question as someone who understands and appreciates these breeds. I used to own a guard dog company and trained police guard dogs, service dogs, junk yard attack dogs and rescue dogs. I have been on the receiving end of many dog training attacks while wearing a guard arm and suit, but I’ve never been so terrified of being torn to pieces as I was during the May attack. There are more and more of these types of dogs on the trails. Be prepared and train yourself and your horse to handle pepper spray or a gun or cattle prod or tazer or whatever you decide is best for you. Remember that you’ll only have a split second to think and use your weapon of choice before the attack and rodeo begins, so use something you’ll not hesitate to use in the presence of people, cars or houses and keep it on your person. Until a person witnesses the incredible power, relentlessness and unpredictability of the Bully breeds, it’s hard to comprehend them as anything more than the energetic, sweet dogs they most often are. I recommend viewing some of the fatalities on www.dogsbite.org. It’s nothing like a personal experience but will give you an idea. I welcome questions, suggestions and chances to brainstorm with others concerned about this issue. Believe me, it’s a subject we all need to address.
Feel free to contact me at ducntuc@aol.com and to read my follow-up article Mauled, Mutilated or Dead. |
