When Dogs Attack!
Wandering around Badami,a village in the State of Karnataka, India, I walked through a dusty street filled with women running errands along the backdrop of small one room shops. An old lady was leading or was being followed by six or so straggly dogs. The dogs were thin and had scars all over their bodies that appeared almost tattoo-like. It was impossible not to notice them and I veered off to the side of the street and continued on my way. Unfortunately, the dogs took careful note of me. The pack stopped and started barking. They all seemed to have their canine field of vision focused on me so I stopped and stood staring back at them. As far as I knew, I did nothing to provoke them. I observed them for several seconds, looked over at the locals around me, shrugged, turned around and continued walking. Then I screamed. The alpha dog had run over and bitten the back of my right thigh. As I screamed and turned around, the dog jumped back and returned to where it had originally stood. That old lady chastised the dog and then she walked on and the pack followed.
What happened?
Dogs have a particularly acute sense of smell. Unlike humans, dogs have separate chambers for smelling and breathing. While humans breathe in and out of the same chamber and therefore cannot hold onto a scent, dogs can maintain a scent in a separate chamber. Dogs also have 300 million olfactory receptors in their nostrils (versus six million for humans) and their olfactory cortex in their brains is 40x larger than a human’s. Maybe I smelled different? Odor is unique for people: in addition to our genetic makeup and hygiene, the food we eat, bath products we use and lifestyle choices affect our odor. Those dogs ignored the Indian locals on that particular street, but they seemed acutely aware of my existence. Did I smell foul to them? Maybe the scent was simply foreign? Is a foreign scent actually threatening enough to a dog that it provokes a bite?
Was it the way I was dressed? The women on the street wore bright colorful local garb but my attire was in stark contrast with my polypropylene brown pants, long-sleeved black pullover and a wide-brimmed hat with sunglasses. Did I look scary or simply unfamiliar? Sight is one function where humans excel compared to dogs. We have three color cones (blue, green and red) in our eyes while dogs only have two (blue and green). Dogs are functionally colorblind and are more likely to see in black and white with some bluish smudges. I imagine all my clothes appeared black and I had two black holes on my face due to the black sunglasses. Maybe the stark black color palette and the unfamiliar scent combined to turn me into a goblin. And again, is that sufficient to stimulate fear and to provoke a bite?
Then there was my one action of turning my back to the pack of dogs in order to walk away. I’ve always read that if I encountered a large mammal while hiking in nature, to make myself look as large as possible by waving my arms, shout and backtrack slowly without ever turning my back to the animal. Walking/running away with the back turned seems to trigger a pursuit response in animals. Was that what happened in my case? I shouldn’t have turned around to walk away? Maybe I should have slowly backtracked and stood closer to some of the local women and waited out my canine tormentors.
Though I mull over what I could have controlled, the dog may have simply been sick and rabid, and would have attacked for any undecipherable reason.
My leg post-bite before the onset of swelling and an enormous purple bruise.
After recovering from my initial shock and disappointment at not being able to visit a temple that day, I found a policeman on a street who gave directions to the nearest medical clinic. As a traveler, you will likely not speak any of the local languages in India, but due to the legacy of British colonialism, even in the smallest village, you can find English speakers. I checked in at the clinic and awaited my turn. Entering the exam room, there was no disposable paper sheet on the exam bed and the walls were splattered with blood and something yellow. I explained to the doctor that a dog had bitten me then he expressed surprise that it wasn’t a monkey. A troop of monkeys did steal my lunch the following day, but I was not their victim on this particular day. The doctor examined and cleaned out the wound then injected me with the first dose of the rabies vaccine. He explained that I needed to continue with additional doses over the course of several weeks and gave me a prescription for the vaccine. I was concerned about whether I would be able to find the drug at pharmacies in rural areas and whether the cold storage was reliable in those areas. Well, I did find the vaccine at pharmacies (the vaccines come with their own disposable syringe) and I assume they were refrigerated properly since I finished the vaccine course, never developed symptoms and am alive. And on a logistics note, you take the vaccine to a clinic and they’ll inject you for anywhere from free to the equivalent of five US dollars. Each dose cost around eight US dollars from my recollection and is far cheaper than accessing the drug in the US.
According to the World Health Organization (WHO),59,000 people around the world die from rabies. 99% of the transmission is from dog bites and 95% of the deaths are in Africa and Asia. Though 120 countries are endemic for rabies, India is home to one third of human deaths from rabies.
I backpacked through India for several months and I always carried rocks in my pant pockets after this incident. Packs of stray dogs wandering in urban and rural areas is the norm and I’ve even needed to yell and throw rocks at dogs large and small in crowded cities such as Mumbai during the daytime. Some dogs were calmer when alone during daylight hours, but once darkness fell and they formed into packs, they grew more aggressive, so I avoided walking outside after sunset especially in rural areas. And rabies is not the only concern. I was bitten by one dog albeit from a pack but there are many people who are mauled to death by a pack of dogs.
So what should I have done?
I wish I had hid myself among the local people or had run into a store. The dogs were barking and I should have taken that as a warning to be afraid and to not just dismiss the situation and turnaround and walk. Generally, the recommendations on managing aggressive dogs fall into two camps: one suggests becoming threatening towards a dog while the other suggests acting non-threatening. Various literature recommend never staring directly into dogs’ eyes (considered to be aggressive), not making high-pitched loud noises, not making sudden movements, never showing your back and to instead face forward and slowly move backwards in a diagonal fashion. Some even recommend relaxing your body (projects confidence instead of fear) and standing still with arms up and close into the body similar to an Oscar statue and to wait out the aggression. Accounts of other travelers wandering developing countries will reiterate my experience of shouting, throwing rocks and using sticks to fight or create distance even though some suggest that this may further aggravate aggression. And if none of these suggestions are attractive to you, throwing food or pouring red pepper on a dog’s nose will supposedly create an opportunity for you to escape. If an attack is imminent, attempt to use any object (bag, jacket, etc.) on you as the recipient of the bite, to protect your face and neck at all costs, and to kick the nose and lower abdominals of the dog. I imagine every encounter may have unique factors and some of these tactics may be more effective than others.
I also cannot now fathom how frustrated I was on that day about how the bite interfered with my sightseeing plans. Upon the onset of symptoms, rabies is 99% fatal and I was grumbling about my plans. The dog’s bite broke skin and there was some blood, but it wasn’t deep. I kept thinking about whether the dog seemed rabid or not and whether I really needed to start the course of the rabies vaccine. Why did I initially try to minimize the situation? The potential for a 99% fatal disease and I initially only thought about the inconvenience.
What You Should Do
Travelers shouldn’t minimize the situation. There are those who die because they didn’t think a small nip from a puppy could possibly spread rabies. Rabies is transmitted through saliva and not only with a bite that breaks skin. If a dog with rabies only licks your hand and your hand had a cut, rabies can be transmitted through the broken skin layer. Saliva in contact with your mucous membranes? Rabies transmission possible. What if the dog wasn’t rabid? How are you going to know one way or the other when you’re traveling in a country like India where the dogs are often not owned or vaccinated? And in a country where rabies is endemic. According to the Centers for Disease Control, after transmission, the incubation period can last from five days to >2 years but rabies symptoms generally manifest within one to three months. So you do have time to seek out the vaccination if your immediate circumstances are not amenable to treatment. But remember, once symptoms begin, the vaccine is ineffective and the mortality rate is 99%. You have little to lose by assuming the worst. Clean the wound, take the full course (now four doses) of the rabies vaccine plus the human rabies immune globulin (HRIG) after exposure or get the pre-exposure vaccine (three doses) before embarking on your trip.
Don’t be paralyzed with fear but be informed. The good news is that medical clinics in developing countries can treat you; vaccines are available in rural pharmacies. You will be able to communicate with people verbally or in writing or hand gestures. Considering the vast number of stray dogs I encountered throughout India, I was only bitten once. On the other hand, I was also lucky. I received my first rabies vaccine dose through an injection in my gluteous (butt) muscle which is not recommended. The vaccine should always be administered through an injection into your deltoid muscle. I also did not receive the HRIG which provides immediate antibodies before my body produces its own antibodies, about seven days after the initiation of the vaccine. I did finish the course of five doses and haven’t developed symptoms in ten years so I assume the vaccine was effective. I also didn’t develop symptoms within seven days, before my body produced antibodies. Especially lucky since I did not receive the HRIG. Studies indicate that even if the administration of vaccine treatment after exposure is imperfect and slightly off schedule, it can generally be effective. I imagine I’m living proof. So, take precautions such as not walking around late at night in areas frequented by strays, carry rocks and sticks, stay calm and read the situation. Also, take any contact with a stray dog’s saliva as a potential medical emergency.