in our city almost every second person has a dog, and I have only seen two or three people who follow the rules of walking - a dog on a leash and in a muzzle.
usually a dog without a leash and without a muzzle runs next to its owner on a walk and pesters people around, and the owner not only does not pay attention to this, but often even laughs cheerfully watching the dog try to bite passers-by, especially old women do this
or in public transport - a dog without a muzzle lies in a crowd of people - as if it should be so, and it depends only on the dog whether it decides to bite someone or not.
as the Russian writer Chekhov wrote in his story The Wolf about a disease called rabies:
And Nilov began to prove that there is nothing easier than to kill a wolf with a rifle butt, and told one story when he laid down a large rabid dog that attacked him on the spot with one blow of an ordinary cane.
- It's easy for you to reason! — the investigator sighed, looking enviously at his broad shoulders. — You have strength — thank God, enough for ten. Not to mention a cane, you could knock a dog down with your finger. While a mere mortal would have to gather himself up to lift a stick, and while he was choosing a place to hit, and while he was doing that, the dog would have managed to bite him five times. An unpleasant story... There is no disease more painful and terrible than hydrophobia. When I first happened to see a mad man, I walked around like a madman for five days afterward, and then I hated all the dog owners and dogs in the world. Firstly, this suddenness, the impromptu nature of the disease is terrible... A healthy, calm man is walking along, not thinking about anything, and suddenly, for no reason at all, a mad dog grabs him! A person is instantly overcome by the terrible thought that he is irrevocably lost, that there is no salvation... Then you can imagine the agonizing, oppressive anticipation of the disease, which does not leave the bitten person for a single minute. The disease itself follows the anticipation... The most terrible thing is that this disease is incurable. Once you get sick, then it's all over. In medicine, as far as I know, there is not even a hint of the possibility of a cure.
"But in our village they treat, sir!" said Maxim. "Miron will cure anyone."
"Nonsense..." sighed Nilov. "As for Miron, all this is just talk. Last summer, a dog bit Styopka in the village and no Mirons could help... No matter how much they fed him all sorts of crap, he still went crazy. No, grandpa, there's nothing you can do. If such a thing happened to me, if a mad dog bit me, I would put a bullet in my forehead. (c)
The story was written in 1886, but it seems like today
I saw a movie about a rabies patient from the first symptoms to death. Any horror movie is a funny comedy compared to this.