I started Early - Took my Dog

And visited the Sea -

This was going to be a peaceful image illustrating one of my favourite poems by Emily Dickinson which starts as above.

We were on the beach soon after 9. It was empty and I spent the best part of an hour taking pictures of rocks, seaweed, lugworm casts and sea foam. As we walked down the strand line I noticed in the distance a couple with 2 large dogs appearing from around the edge of the sand dunes (top left) but we paid them no heed and continued on our way. Casey's sight is very poor now and he shows little interest in other dogs.

A few minutes after I took this shot I heard a man yelling "Pick him up! Pick him up!" as one of the large dogs hurtled across the beach towards us like an Exocet missile. I snatched up Casey and held him aloft - so the malevolent brute sank its fangs into my calf and thigh. The owner panted up apologizing and assuring me the dog had never bitten anyone before but it couldn't stand small dogs since an incident when it was a puppy. I managed to get the man's details before stumbling away from the scene and making my way in some pain to the town (even further than it looks because you have to go up the estuary to the bridge), exuding blood sweat and tears all the way. After waiting 30 minutes in the local surgery without being attended to I stormed out and fortunately bumped into a friend who drove me to my own health centre a few miles away.

Now I've had a tetanus jab, antibiotics and a large dressing on my mangled thigh; I've got a few hours sleep and something to eat; I've reported to and been visited by the police but I'm sorry, there won't be any comments tonight as I'm still feeling somewhat in shock and need to lick my wounds, metaphorically.
And worst of all that lovely poem will always remind me of the Hound of Newport Sands.