HEAD-BUTTED BY A BEE

A fine morning this morning, so my usual habit of being sped around the village by our small terrier was unhindered by having to peer out from under my all weather jacket. There I was minding my own business, when bombini apidae suddenly ...
I have never come across a case of dangerous driving in a bee before. Wasps, yes, but bees have always struck me as the gentlemen (and gentlewomen) of the airways, ever careful in their comings and goings. I can only assume that this particular bee was over-honeyed; under the influence of an over-indulgence in pollen, it was speeding its way hivewards so as to avoid 'the fuzz'; 'the boys in bluebottles'. And this bee surely struck me. Square in the right eye.
It, the bee, was unfazed by the encounter, barely batting an eyelid after butting an eyeball, before resuming its journey. I, on the other hand was much discomfited. I was not stung and the only hurt was to my dignity and to the dog as it was whirled around me like a windmill as I sought to fight off my assailant ... who was by this time long gone.
After this assault and bee-ttery (sorry) and still disorientated, I was steered around a corner in our route by Gypsy (aka Loonbug) and straight into a near neighbour weeding the border of his property. He greeted me warmly and commented on the beautiful morning we were enjoying, but unhinged as I was and struggling to control a very dominating Jack Russell terrier, who was determined on impressing my neighbour with the full ardour of her affection (I nearly wrote arfection there, which might have been more appropriate), I merely opened and closed my mouth a couple of times and although sound came out, it was unintelligible, at least to me.
Clearly he felt so too, and repeated his cheery salutation ... but as if talking to an imbecile. I muttered something along the lines of "Yes, definitely", and tried to cajole the Loonbug out of harm's way. Ever forward-looking Gypsy forged ahead to the next encounter.
A couple of visitors to our scenic, history-laden village were spotted exiting the churchyard accompanied by a beautiful, placid, black labrador. Gypsy - spotting this unsuspecting hound from afar - immediately switched to territorial mode and determined to repel the invader without let or hindrance!
It was all too much for me. I scurried home, trailing a belligerent pooch behind me. Now, soothing my shattered nerves with deep breathing, a cup of tea and a chocolate digestive, I restore my equilibrium.

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