Running Dog

Dog running alongside a bike, along 12th Avenue somewhere in the 50s today.

 

New Feature – Dogs on Bikes

When I started this blog in 1936, I sought to create a space where I could post photos of two of life’s greatest features: dogs and bicycles. So for years I posted images of dogs, images of bicycles and everyone once in a blue moon, a photo of dog with a bicycle in the background. In time, the blog grew stale, dare I say dull. The editors of Dogs and Bikes, in an all out pedal-to-the-metal push to stay in existence, came up with this brainchild:

What about dogs on bikes…or at least running along beside them?

And so, after refining this concept on several pints of fine Belgian beer, we present you the first nascent images of dogs on bikes. And I make you this promise. Wherever there’s a dog perched in a bicycle basket, tongue askew, or running alongside one within camera range, I’ll snap that photo and stick it up on this blog for the entire world to see, hopefully improving the lives of many and bringing tears to the eyes of several.

And if I ever find the holy grail of dog/bicycle combo blogs, I promise to hold out for top dollar. I am of course talking about the very rare, never photographed dog pedaling a bicycle.

 

Dog on a Wall

 

We don’t need no stinking bagses

Hate the owner, not the dog. After the first photo I held the camera on this dog’s master anticipating a clever caption showing how considerate NYC’s dog owners are. He never looked back.

Guy on a bike riding against traffic with headphones on. Transportation alternatives, attempting to address boorish/ oblivious/ dangerous riding tactics has launched a new website called Biking Rules.

 

Two Dogs, Three Bikes

A rare bike rack on an Upper West Side residential street. The city has fewer bike racks per capita than any major city anywhere ever.

 

Parallelo-grayhounds

An insane philosopher once said, “Dogs. Is there anything they can’t do?” This blog combines two of the more civilizing elements of city life: dogs and bicycles. I occupy New York City, a crowded anonymous place where neighbors know my dog but not me, where my anachronistic lugged steel bicycle attracts occasional attention, but the rider remains invisible. It’s a city that produces an estimated 47 tons of dog poop every day, much of it bagged, shipped to the suburbs and preserved for future landfill excavators to study.