Fleet ‘The Edge of the Fields.’

The dog pulled on her line, her owner called her back, but she pulled insistently towards the pile of clothes on the narrow footpath. She walked along the edge of the fields most days, enjoying the changing weather, the patterned skies, the whisper of distant waves and the shining light of the sea.

‘What is it? What is it?’ She implored Cassie, as she pulled harder this time, her lead as taught and tense as her tail.

The dog whined. Then she saw the clothes. A distant, dull splash caught her attention as they both moved rapidly towards the unkempt and abandoned shirt, trousers and shoes.

Cassie sniffed and whined again, this time with her nose pointing through the still, moist air, over the lagoon, and the footsteps imprinted across the empty beach.

She looked over towards where she heard the broken waters, the splash that had ruffled her attention and concern earlier.

She screamed. Dropped the lead. Cassie immediately ran to the edge of the lagoon barking and then began whining: her ears flat, nose pointed and slowly began to growl in a low rumble of fear and concern.

‘What… did you see..Cassie come here at once!’

Cassie ignored her as they both heard the crack and scrape of something landing.

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