I was enjoying my walk to town through the countryside.
The sheep didn't bother me, neither did the cattle. I managed to cross the railway line without getting squashed (it's ok, it's a tourist steam train, doesn't run today!)
When I reached the graveyard I looked around for a bench to enjoy the peace and my book...but that's when I met your dog. He rushed towards me, all hair and teeth and barking loudly.
I don't like strange dogs.
I shouted out to you, the unseen owner: "please call your dog!"
But the dog kept charging towards me. I started to walk away, abandoning all hope of sitting down.
The dog (of course!) chased me, still barking and jumping around. I kept to the footpath. The dog didn't. He jumped on graves, unaware of the floral tributes left by loved ones.
Eventually you came into sight, so I directed my shout in your direction: "Get your dog away from me!"
Some readers might be expecting me to write about your apology at this point, about how you ran to put your dog on the lead.
But no. Instead, you shouted: "Don't be silly, he won't hurt you."
"How am I supposed to know that?" I responded (but not that calmly, there were *shock* rude words used).
Cos the thing is, dog owners ALWAYS say "he won't hurt you"...and they don't. Right up till the first time. And then the same dog owners say "I can't believe it, he's never bitten anyone before."
That's what the owner of the other dog said, the one that DID bite me.
And if next week the local paper carries a story complaining about teenage vandals despoiling floral tributes in the graveyard, you and I will know the true story, won't we?