I wonder what this would be like in a Gurkha village…

Kabob

My tenants had a mean dog. I had to go there a few times a year and often they weren’t home. I carried a stout shovel. The shorter type with a T-handle. I kept it between me and the dog. The dog recognized it for what it was; a deadly weapon. If the dog (or a goat) attacked me I would kill it, sorry PETA. I would consider it a public service.

Years ago I lived in a town where I could walk to work. One family on the street had a dog that liked to bark then sneak up behind to get a bite of my butt-tocks. After one ‘taste’ of my quart Stanley thermos, that dog didn’t bother me again. The clank of steel on the canine teeth was memorable.

When I lived in the country I would walk everyday and the roads were mostly in the woods with a few houses here and there. I carried a collapsible metal baton because the dogs seemed more protective of their turf and generally there was no one around to call them back. One day a very large male Rottweiler came charging across the street at me. I had the baton in my hand and when I slung it open with a solid metal clunk the Rottweiler came to a skidding halt and slunk bank to his yard. I’m glad he did I’m not sure who would have won.