Rogue the wounded hound

Tonight after the rabbit round-up, as I was on my way home along my country lane, a mean Black Labarador called ‘Tiger’ came rushing out of its garden and pounced on my throat lacerating my skin. I was on the leash at the time and couldn’t make my escape. The expletives came thick and fast from my home side, expecting a former DCI of the local constabularies dog to be better behaved than this . . . especially a Labrador.

Now here I am, paws up, recovering from the latest injury.

But I’ll be back and the adventures will continue.