Through ancient paths,

'Cross hills sublime.

I trekked on fields so green.

Breathing in the country air,

I lived my rural dream.

To fill my lungs with fresh, clean air,

Was what I sought to do.

I gaxed upon the scenery,

That took my breath to view.

In sweetest, quiet reverie,

I walked alone the route.

'Til suddenly the peace was broke,

By snarling, drooling brute.

With searing pain,

And blood soaked clothes,

From idyll I descend.

The fearsome dog has sunk its teeth,

Deep into my rear end.