In the past decade or so, I have gotten quite interested in the psychology of violence.

Over time, I have gotten interested in the writings of Marc “Animal” MacYoung, Rory Millar, Kris Wilder, Lawrence Kane, and Peyton Quinn.  Finding MacYoung’s website (http://www.nononsenseselfdefense.com/index.html) was the portal for finding out about the other writers. Since then, I have read MacYoung’s “In the Name of Self Defense”, Rory Miller’s “Meditations on Violence”, and Kane and Wilder’s “The Little Black Book of Violence.” I intend to read Quinn’s works when I have the chance.  

They all share a common theme: they discuss and explore the nature of violence and how to avoid it. They offer great insights into the different types of violence. The overriding theme is the need to avoid violence, particularly the “Monkey Dance.” I believe this academic field is long overdue and needs to be addressed in the self-defence community.

But what sparked my interest in reading these works? Ah, that’s a story that I shall tell here.

Several close incidents did not end in violence. However, one got me thinking about human psychology and violence.

The story begins in November 2004 while I lived in Columbus, Ohio. It was a cold, windy, snowy day. Perfect weather for me to take Mario, my 13-year-old golden retriever, for a walk. This guy LOVED cold weather, and I could not deny him this pleasure. I bundled up and took him down the main street in my subdivision toward the park.

Mario as he looked on the day that I had a close call with violence.
Mario.

Mario was the typical golden retriever who thought every human and animal was a friend. As I approached the entrance of the park, I looked around.  Due to this cold, windy day, there was no soul there, or so I thought. I let Mario off the leash. I wasn’t worried as he was an incredibly responsive dog. Call him once, and he’ll come running back to you.

Unfortunately, as soon as I let Mario off the leash, a man on a bicycle whizzed by with a Rottweiler on his leash. I had not noticed this guy.  

Being a regular park patron, I had never seen this guy before. Mario ran after him as he whizzed by, likely thinking there were two potential friends. Remember that Mario was 13 and didn’t have great stamina. As the picture above shows, he was a senior dog blessed with a furiously wagging tail.

The gentleman on the bike angrily yelled at me, “Get your dog away from me!”  Before those words left his mouth, I had already called for Mario to return. He did come back immediately, albeit reluctantly.

We were 15 to 20 feet apart. Due to the fact it was a windy day, I shouted at the guy, “I got him!” I admit that my voice had an edge in response to his anger. I put Mario back on the leash. In hindsight, that edge in my voice may have set him off. Who knows?

In any case, while I was getting Mario back on the leash, the guy suddenly appeared next to me on his bike and with his Rottweiler on his leash. “What did you say to me?

Me: (recognizing what was happening) “I responded that I had got him. I apologize for my dog.

Him: “I’m training at the local police academy, and I’m training my dog. You distracted my dog. I want to know what your name is and where you live.

Me: (as calm as possible) “I’m sorry, sir. I’m not giving you that information. I hope that you have a nice day. Let’s go our separate ways and forget about this.

Him: “I’m not leaving until I know your name and address.”

Me: “I’m not giving you that information. I apologize for offending you.” (this was my attempt at de-escalation).

It went on and on. The guy followed me with his Rottweiler as I walked from the park. He made a point of letting the Rottie get close to Mario and me. I got the sense that the guy was not, in fact, training with the local Police Academy. He kept persisting in wanting to know my name and address in a threatening tone. Staying calm, I kept politely refusing and continued to walk.

I decided not to walk home and give away where I lived. Further, I kept telling the guy that I was uninterested in conflict and that “let’s forget this.” Nothing worked.

The guy was not letting go of whatever issue existed in his mind. It became clear that the potential for violence existed. I wanted to avoid being the bad guy.

I walked to a friend’s house a half-mile away, with this guy following me and threatening me with his Rottweiler. My friend was my Modern Arnis instructor and a firefighter as well. I rang his doorbell, and he answered the door, to my relief. I explained the problem. He let me into his house. Two minutes later, the guy rang the doorbell and told Dan, “I want your friend.” Dan told him that it was out of the question and to get off his property.  The guy did not respond kindly. Dan essentially told him to “fuck off” and called the police.

The guy lingered in the street outside of Dan’s house until the police arrived. He then took off. The police took my report. Based on my description, they doubted the guy was at the local police academy. I got a ride home with Mario in the backseat. (Note: Mario was a hit with the police officers. YAY!).

About an hour after getting home, I got a call from one of the officers indicating that the guy had filed a police report. I said, “Well, I’m glad he filed a report since we now have his name.” The officer said, “Yup, he’s not too smart. We could cross-reference his name with the local police academy, and his name did not come up.” Surprise, surprise.

I thought about this episode for a long time. What set that guy off? The worst I could say to him was, “I got him!” with an edge in my voice.

It’s entirely possible that he was responding to the tone of my voice. Peyton Quinn has a nice 4 part checklist of how to avoid a monkey dance and avoid violence: (1) don’t insult him; (2) don’t threaten him; (3) don’t challenge him or accept his challenge, and (4) give the other party a face-saving exit. I did none of those things. I was walking away from him when I got Mario on the leash. Was he simply an overly sensitive Monkey? Who knows? Or was he mentally ill? Had he done this to someone else in the past? Who knows?

The most concerning thing in this episode is that this guy was in close range until I got to Dan’s house. He was not barking at me from 10 to 20 feet away. Instead, he was no more than 5 feet away on his bicycle and Rottweiler, occasionally letting the leash extend toward me. Due to the dog’s presence, I figured my best option was to keep walking toward Dan’s house.

Compounding the situation was that no one was at the park and in the neighbourhood because it was overcast, cold, and blustery. If the situation deteriorated, no one was out there to intervene. It was a bad situation all around.

I calculated that my best option was to keep walking to a safe place.

Looking back at it, I was caught in a difficult situation and was able to get out of it. So I consider that a win. I was protective of Mario (whom I had adopted when he was 10. He was a perfectly healthy abandoned dog. A six-month-old puppy trapped in a 13-year-old body.) Here was a guy who was emotionally and mentally violent and appeared willing to let his Rottweiler attack Mario or me.

Despite my attempts to walk away and de-escalate, the guy was stuck in his Monkey Dance for quite a while. I could not get him to break the Monkey Dance script.

I’ve often wondered what other strategies I could have used at the time, but I haven’t been able to come up with any alternatives. In any case, I negotiated this situation as best as I could. The result was that nothing happened. Of all the close incidents I’ve had, this was, by far, the most difficult one.

As a result, this episode triggered an interest in the psychology of other humans and the issue of violence that continues to this day. It reinforced that martial arts training alone is not sufficient. As my tone of voice may have played a role, I admit I’m conscious of how I act toward others.  I believe awareness of the law and human psychology must be included in self-defence/martial arts training. If you haven’t read the aforementioned authors’ works, I highly recommend that you start with:

Marc MacYoung’s book:

And this book by Sgt Rory Miller:

Both books can be found on Amazon. Get them!

Additional Reading