Christmas Eve around 1986. Coming home at around midnight.
Had a full face Bell helmet on....the kind with the post office box slot for an eye slit.
Had just downshifted into second and was slowing to turn into my driveway, about 4 houses away.
Just as I drew even with a smallish spruce bush on my right, I noticed some movement, but alas, too late to do anything about what happened next.
A German Shepard ran from behind the bush directly into my path of travel....and having absolutely no time to react, I hit him. I flew over/into the handlebars and landed on the pavement.....skidded for a short bit down the asphalt and into the curb.
The bike, an older Honda 350/4, was churning away in the middle of the street but its motor sound was being drowned out by the screaming of the dog that I'd hit....was pinned under the bike.
All the commotion drew some of our neighbors outside. One did pick my bike up and move it to our driveway. The moment he lifted the bike, the dog was off like a flash....never saw him again. (I honestly thought I'd killed him, T-boning him like I did.)
The next day upon further examination of the bike, several things were found. The forks were bent. Damned dog. But there was fur stuck onto/burnt onto the right side exhaust pipes. So I guess that's what the dog was screaming about....HOT exhaust pipes burning the snot out of somewhere on his body. Shame, that.
As for me, I had jeans on and leather boots and jacket. The boots and jacket kept my skin intact. The jeans, on the other hand, shredded and left me with road rash from my right hip to my ankle. I still have scars on my hip and knee.
And this doesn't include the gorgeous bruise I developed just to the right of my jewel pouch where the right handlebar end punched me. Damn that hurt.
Moral of the story.....you cannot prevent all accidents, but leather works.