CLEVER DUGS IN SHITTLESTON

I have now, seen it all!! Let me tell ye. Popped intae the local peice shoppe for a roll n’ gammon. Now this is a shop I visit a couple of times a fortnight, which makes it a firm favourite. The couple that run it are smashin, Jeanie a nice gentle soul, aye wi a ready smile and a bit oh crack while servin ye. Then there is her man, Teapot Tam, whit a case he is. A few months ago, only moments after the ‘yur dyin convo wi the cariologist on the phone’ I walked inate the shop, still as you can imagine incandesant wi rage, spilled ma story tae Tam an Jeanie. Suffice to say, by the time I left the shop, wi a bacon an tattie scone roll on that ocassion if I remember, I had got things into perspective and wis laughin ma socks at the numptie cardiologist and her stupit ideas, pfft, whitt can ah say, doctors!!! Anyway, suffice tae say everytime I now set fitt ower the door Teapot Tam dis the grand welcome wi ‘Jasus, its a miracle, she’s still no deid, still defyin the doctors predictions I see’. Its one oh thon ‘in’ jokes that always gets a chorttle.

Anyway, as usual I digress. Was in the shop during the week an Tam wis burstin tae tell me his latest news. The day before his hardware shop neighbour had came tae the door an hovvered aboot, lookin somewhat distressed. ‘Whits up Abdul?’ Tam enquires. Now he notices that Abdul is even more distressed than he first appeared, his eyes are moist and he is obviously shakin, Tam moves fae the back oh the counter tae the doorstep tae offer assistance.
‘Jeanie mind the counter, am jist seenin tae Abdul’ he shouts through the back.
‘Whits up Abdul?’ Tam enquires.
‘Tam’ says Abdul, ‘ah cannae believe it, ah cannae beleive whit a jist saw, light me a fag mate wid ye’
.’Whits up Abdul?’ asks Tam.
‘Fecksake man, are you awright, dae ye need a seat?’Tam enquires.
‘Naw the fags fine ta Tam’
‘Well’, starts Abdul, after a long exhilation on his fag.
‘There ah wis, staunin in the shop listenin tae the rerunn oh the cricket on radio5 an in comes this couple’
Abdul takes another deep drag on his Richmond Superking.
‘In they come, the usual, you know, the junkie set’.
Tam nodds his acknowledgement, the traders oh shittleston know the junkies only too well.
‘Obviously in for a wee shopliftin spree. The wummin dis aw the chattin, like 200 tae the dozen, while he dis the skulkin bit near the paint. But this two have brought their dug in, an there is a sign on the door sayin nae dugs. So ah manage tae stop her spoutin her verbal diohhrea long enough tae point this oot’.
Tam notices noo that Abdul has tears in his eyes.
‘ah knew there wis somthin comin’ Abdul continues,
‘when they both went quiet. Next thing the guy clicks his fingers, and before ye could say Crufts the dug picks up two oh ma £10 sheepskin paint rollers an’ runns oota the shop wi the two eejit junkies followin it faster than Jenson Button at the start oh the Grand Prix’.
By this time Teapot Tam is doubled in two wi laughter tears also streamin doon his face.
‘Fucksake Tam, whit is this palce commin tae, its shop liftin dugs we need tae watch oot fir’.

So, there you have it, gone are the days when local schools produced the good and the great, no more emminent plastic sugeons, politicians and journalists of high regard. Now, now its the weegie version of Cesar Millan dog trainer, wonder what he would make of this. Anyone think that Channel four would be intrested in
in making a new dug trainin programme. What could they call it? the mind boggles, and before you ask, naw, Dekwan isnt up for it, he says it might involve him havin’ tae get up before 11am and thats not for him.