The sign says ...

So, near Batavia, Ohio, I was driving back this little side road I'd never been on before. T'was Snyder road, as I recall. It went back a ways and then split off. Back some more. Wound around. Maybe more splits. The ruts got deeper. The trees and weeds aside my elbow got closer and closer. I thought I could hear banjo music echoing across the valley I was driving down into. Finally, after a very tight turn around an old farmhouse that looked like it belonged in the Smokey Mountains National Park, a short straightaway ended in a road-blocking iron-looking barrier and fence. That looked like something out of Road Warriors. There was a turnaround, so I did that. Since I no longer heard psycho banjo music and didn't see any 2-barreled guns sticking out of the fence, I stopped, parked the car, got out to stretch my legs. (Yes, to be sure, I left the car running!) I took a few steps to read the dingy sign, now experienced to the tune of some rhythmic woofing and growling. I can hear someone saying now ... "Hell, Martha. Why'd anyone ever photograph that ugly old gate anyway? Art should be purdy! That photographer musta been one o' those crazies!" The sign says "BEWARE OF THE DOG". In case you think someone's fooling, look closely.