Beware the bite near Beinn Mhanach

Hill aficionados will be scratching their head at the title of my post. What could possibly go wrong on the benign Beinn Mhanach? I wanted to do this hill with a good pack on to prepare for the Tarf Bothy trip and I have to be honest in saying that I had been putting this Munro off for a while. It didn't appear to have much in the way of great views, crags and was a long walk-in. However, I parked up at 0830 beside the A82 and made good progress along the road passed some barking dogs (N.B. captive at this point). Also, came across a rather insidious looking sheep, which looked like it had been plugged into the mains. Not long after, I had to make a tip toe crossing over the Allt Kinglas and it wouldn't be the last time. You have to do this 7 times on the way into Beinn Mhanach and obviously on the way back out so a dry day is best, particularly for this hill. As it was, I was adept at stepping on stones without falling and the walk along the road was most enjoyable. The cliffs of Beinn a Chaisteal rise high on the right hand side and that was a Corbett I was definitely looking forward to. Beinn a Chuirn came into view at the viaduct and seemed a fair way off. I had been going a good while when I came across Duncan Ban MacIntyre's old howff - it appears to have been converted to a shearing site and there was a massive bag of wool in there. A good place for an emergency stop-off. What a wee place to have lived - so isolated. I never met a soul going in or out to this all day and for solitude, this is a great walk. I pushed on and began an ascending traverse up to Beinn Mhanach. Loch Lyon came into view as did Ben Challum but although it was covered in cloud, I could make out snow on its top. Would I experience that at the summit? No. It wasn't long before I entered clagville and I never saw anything of a view until I came back out of the cloud. I hit the summit cairn, took a wee coffee and sandwich and then re-traced my steps. At the fence-posts, I followed them down to the road. Uneventful, a Munro in the bag and what should be a nice easy amble home. And it was until I got past the last set of houses (the sign reads Fir Park). I never even heard the dirty little mutt until growling, it had its teeth firmly into my Scarpa boot and with a slight sphincter-twitch, I realised I was being mauled by some dark hound. It growled and snarled and I promptly kicked it in the face (sorry PETA lovers) and it relinquished its grip before running off quite unperturbed. I wasn't hurt but did think of others who may not be so lucky or have a fear of dogs. Be warned. I kept thinking if only I'd kicked in the scrot, it might have had to get prosthetic testes then when it dragged itself along the ground, you could say "Here Sparky!" Next stop - Tarf Bothy.