My bike makes a different sound. 

It seems to be a sound that dogs pick up on.

Dogs seem to have a way of picking up on odd things.

It is something I have been aware of for a long time. 

Dogs turn around and look back at me long before I pass them. 

They pull on their leash. 

They stop what they are sniffing and look up. 

They bark. 

They stare. 

They jump. 

All is good. 

I love dogs. 

I grew up with them, and I had one. 

I have adapted my riding as much as possible to not ‘mess them up.’ 

This is all okay when they are on a leash. 

But when you get into the country, well, it has its challenges. 

There is one place in particular. 

The house sits alone in a field. 

They have three dogs. 

There is one that waits at the end of the driveway for me. 

I call him ‘Buddy.’ 

I can see Buddy from a kilometre away. 

Buddy probably hears me from further. 

I don’t think the other two dogs are concerned about me. 

I call them ‘Buddy’s Buddies.’

But what gets them concerned is how crazy Buddy gets, and this gets them crazy too. 

Out they come. 

They are already running in the direction I am going. 

They run looking back at me, waiting for me to arrive. 

Once we are side by side, ‘It is ON.’ 

It is a little chaotic. 

I say, ‘Hey guys,’ and other jovial greetings. 

Something that is totally opposite to what is going on. 

Something that I think, for some reason, will calm things down. 

Someone yells from the house, and they begin to slow down. 

Buddy is the last one to stop. 

I look back at the three of them standing in the middle of the road. 

It looks like something out of a Western. 

‘Next Time’ 

Insert folded arms emoji here.

‘There is another way to ride.’