Tattie Zkowen's Day Aff
by Angus Shoor Caan
Genre: Humour
Swearwords: A few strong ones.
Description: Whit tae dae wi' a buckshee day aff.
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As plans went, this wan wis loose tae ri pint a’ absolute slackness, jeest ri wye Tattie liked thum.
Whit tae dae wi’ an unscheduled day aff wis ‘es only immediate problem, if ye could caw it a problem; ri day aff comin’ aboot is a result e’ a cancell't dental appointment. It wis only a check-up, a clean an’ poalish, Tattie wis tae phone in fur anurr appointment.
Ri continental shifts suited ‘um, geid ‘um a freedom a’ sorts 'es pals quaitly envied. Tattie hid tagged a hoalidy oan tae ‘es long weeken' tae accommodate ri visit tae ri dentist an’ suddenly fun ’esel’ wi’ an obligation-free day.
‘E wis up early, early enough tae gie ri wife a right guid seein’ tae afore ri weans wur aboot an’ no' long afore she hud tae get up fur ‘ur work; that pit ‘um in the guid books fur sure.
“‘Slang as ri dinner’s ready fur whin a pick ri weans up fae kickba’ practice,” she tel’t ‘um afore she left ri hoose, “ye kin dae whit ye want wi’ yur day aff……'within reason',” she added.
Since Tina worked, Tattie wis happy tae help oot wi’ ri hoosework, it wis only fair. ‘E drew the line et hooverin’ mind, fur ri simple fact ‘e couldnae hear the music fur ri noise ri hoover made. They hud a guid relationship him an’ Tina, an’ Tattie pit rat doon tae ‘es easy gawn nature, a theory ‘e fail't tae mention whiniver Tina wis aboot.
Ri weather wis an added bonus. Dry efter a wet weeken’, an’ caul’ fur July bit whit ri fuck, it wis fine an’ ‘e hud a day aff.
Tattie fil’t ri washer ren fil’t ri slow cooker wi’ ri ingredients e’ ‘es signature dish, mince, savoury mince ‘cause onyhin’ could end up in it. Hauf a tin a’ sweetcorn, hauf a tin a’ gairdin’ peas an’ some tamata soup leftower fae ri Sunday; hame made.
Rat done, ‘e tidied aw ri beds then made shoart work e’ a big fry-up.
‘E rang the dentist’s surgery while it wis in ‘es mind tae an’ made anurr appointment, carefully checkin’ ‘es work roster. ‘E hud mair hoalidays tae take bit ‘e wis savin’ thum. The Ayr Gold Cup meetin’ wis oan the horizon an’ it wis a big day oot fur him, Tina an’ three urr couples; it ay ended up as a guid week aff, win ur lose.
Tattie peel’t the tatties an’ pit thum oan tae par-bile. Bey ri time ‘ed been up tae ri shope fur a paper an’ back it wid be time tae lay rum by fur eftur an' then it widnae take rum long tae cook.
Enjoyin’ a rare cup a’ coffee, Tattie pick't oot a Placepot et Windsor, attemptit ri croasword an’ read the paper fae cover tae cover, bey which time ri washer wis in its final rinse, spin cycle ‘hing.
Ri phone rang, double glazin’, sales department. “Kin ye phone us back aboot seevin a’cloak Jim?” Says Tattie in 'es best telephone vice.
“Certainly sir, if that would be more convenient for you.”
“Ah’ll say. Ri wife’ll bey in bey ren an’ she’s goat a faur sherper tongue rin me.” Thur wis silence oan r'urr en'.
Ri bettin’ shope wis oan ri wye tae ri pub, only four ur five doors awa’. Tattie check't fur non-runners an’ laid ‘es bet, takin’ ri time tae huv a wee blether wi’ wan ur two punters ‘e kent.
Tattie didnae even glance towards ri bor whin ‘e enter't ri Blockade, insteed, heedin’ fur the table bey ri windae whur two regulars wur a’ready settl’t in; aboot three inches intae thur furst pint. As creatures a’ habit, an’ despite ri quite excellent view oot ower ri wee harbour, Dingo an’ Lefty Wright prefer't tae observe whit wis gawn oan in ri bor as opposed tae gazin’ oot ri windae. Tattie sat opposite thum an’ made a stert oan ri conversation. “Howzit gawn boyes? How’s yer aul’ maw gettin’ oan?
“Aye, no bad Tattie,” they answer't in unison, “you no’ drinkin’ then?”
Tattie didnae answer an’ waited fur the touch a’ big Ruby’s haun oan ‘es shooder as she deliver't ‘es rid tin. “Yoos boyes want anurr pint a’ thon shite yis drink? Big burd, bring thum anurr swally an’ get wan fur yersel’. Mind that’s a twinty a geid ye tae.”
“Yir a right cheeky fucker you, in’t ye?” accused Lefty, “a sumtums wunner how ye get awa’ wi’ it so a dae.”
“It’s a gift,” explained Tattie as Ruby returned wi’ the drinks. “Here Ruby, you been gawn tae thon weight watchers ur whit?”
“Naw son. It’s these spray oan latex lurex spandex slimmin’ troosers makin’ ye ‘hink rat. It’s still aw me inside thum bit thanks fur noticin’”.
“Ah’m no huvin’ that Ruby. Get yer erse ower here tae a huv a feel fur masel’, ah’m share yuv loast hauf a stane sin' a last seen ye.”
Lefty an’ Dingo luc’t oan as Tattie ran ‘es hauns ower Ruby’s ample backside, seemingly satisfyin' 'es earlier curiosity regardin' 'ur apparent weight loss. “Ah’m no’ too sure whit yer sayin’ is right Ruby doll. Yur mibbe better tae step oot ‘e they spray oan thingies so’s a kin see fur massel’.
“Nae chance ya horny bastart ye. It taen me hauf an ‘oor tae get intae ri fuckers an’ you jeest waant tae say it only taen ye five meenits.”
The conversation stoaped there as ri new crew, aw five e’ thum, sloped intae ri faur coarner, ri dork coarner. Ruby wis oan thum in a flash.
“If yuv brung yur ain drink yis kin fuck oaf back oot that door. Ah’m no’ huvin’ yis rippin’ ri pish oot e’ ma pub.” They wis subjected tae a cursory inspection afore bein' allowed tae take up residence. These wur ri new up an’ comin’ hardmen. Hard whin thur wis five e' thum. Nearly as hard whin thur wis four ‘e thum an’ saft as shite whin they wur reduced tae jeest the three, as dictated doon through the ages.
They usually played pool, ri new hardmen, bit Tattie set ri baws up an’ challenged either Dingo ur Lefty tae a gemme. Ri new hardmen opted fur a gemme a’ dominoes, probly as an act a’ defiance bit they didnae hauf gie it awa’ whin they stertit arguin’ the toss is tae who should play furst.
Tattie sweet-talked Ruby intae ratchin’ up a guid few credits oan ri juke-boax an’ made a pint a' selectin' ri type a’ song ri new hardmen widnae appreciate; yur Blues, Heavy Rock, thon Americana an’ a wee bit a’ Soul, urrwise ri bor wid reverberate tae ri strains e’ thon mind numbin’ rap crap.
Tae try tae compensate, ri new hardmen played dominoes lit West Indians, slammin’ ri tiles intae ri widden board. Thur wis trouble brewin’.
A fireman in full uniform enter't an’ bellied up tae ri bor beside aul’ Pish Staines, regular bor-fly an’ wit.
“Ah wis in here oan Seturday night hen,” says the fireman, directin’ ’es comments in big Ruby’s direction.
“An whit?” says she, “ye left yur hose lyin’ aboot?”
“’Sno’ that missis. A jeest noticed yur fire doors wis wide tae ri wa’ an’ that’s against regulations.”
“Lea ri lassie alain ya joabsworth bastart,” piped Pish, “she’s goat enuff oan ‘ur plate withoot yoos lot cummin’ in hasslin’.”
“A wis gonnae say, if ye’d jest let me feenish, a’m here tae gie ‘ur a friendly heeds up aboot an upcummin inspection.”
“Sorry son. Sorry fur jumpin’ ri gun rerr,” slurred Pish, “here Ruby doll, gie ris gadgie a drink. Whit’ll it be pal, heavy?”
“A’m oan duty Jim. Jeest thote a wid crack oan aboot them doors is aw.”
“A hauf? Wull ye huv a wee hauf then? Ruby, gie ‘um a wee hauf tae keep ri caul’ oot.”
“Gie it a rest Pish wull ye? ‘Es only daiin’ us a favour…..Thanks son, ah’ll see tae it rurr shut.”
“Here Tattie,” says Dingo, “wis thon a relation a’ yours a seen in ri paper r'urr day?”
“Whit wis rat aw aboot?” asked Tattie.
“Fulla wi’ ra same surname is you. Same spellin’ tae. Won a couple a’ hunner thoosin’ oan the Lottery.”
“It wisnae oor Owen wis it? Naw, the weans wid a’ gote it oot ‘e ‘um if it wis.”
“Naw Tattie. A wid uv asked your Owen aboot it afore approachin’ yersel’,”
“Same spellin’ ye say? An’ fae roon’ aboot here?”
“Somewhere doon in Englin’. Yorkshur wyes, mibbes Sheffield.”
“No wi’ ri same spellin’ sharely. A thote we wis unique wi’ ri surname. Mind a tel’t yis how it came aboot?”
“Niver tel’t us,” says ri pair e’ thum ri gither. “Yu’ll need tae tell us noo, noo thit yuv stertit.”
“‘Sno a long story, an’ yis kin stope me if yuv heard it. Ma aul’ Papa wis Poalish, boarn here bit brote up talkin’ hauf Poalish ye ken? ‘E wis workin’ oan the grip is a windae cleaner, bit ‘e hud tae sign et ri broo ev'ry day an’ e’ only gote hauf an ‘oor fur ‘es dinner. Sin’ it taen ‘um twinty meenits tae sign ‘is name ‘e decided tae chinge it bey deed poll, the wye thon Cassius Clay dun, mind?
So, ‘e lopped aw ri exes an’ y s oaf ey ri name so’s it widnae take is lang tae write; clever eh?”
“So how comes sumdy else a few hunner’ mile awa’ hud ri same idea ren?” asked Lefty.
“Musta hud the same proablum is the auld yin. Bit sayin’ that, it mibbes wisnae ri same name is mine tae stert wi’. Ken whi’ a mean boyes? 'Urs loats a’ Poalish names oot thair thit ur un-pronounceable.”
“A ‘hink a mind ye tellin’ me rat afore noo,” says Lefty, pittin’ ‘es jaikit oan tae go oot fur a smoke; thus renderin’ the coanversation stane deid.
Specky McSpot reinforced ri pool table area oan Lefty’s absence, oaferin’ how de do’s tae Tattie an’ Dingo an’ wunnerin’ did they waant a drink.
Pish left tae go doon tae ‘es club an’ is ‘e open’t ri door a wee white dug skitter’t in wi’ a broon paper parcel in its mooth. A curious Pish folayed it back in an'order't anurr drink. Ri wee dug heedet fur ri table ri Domino players wis loudin’ it up et an’ set aboot rippin’ ri broon paper apert. Wan ‘e ri new hardmen taen a kick et ri wee dug an’ gote ‘es troosers ripped in retaliation.
That wis it. ‘E wis oan ‘es feet, empty botul in ‘es haun an’ gunnin’ fur blood.
Ri wee dug taen refuge unner ri pool table, draggin’ a pun a’ beef links wi’ um.
“Pit ri botul doon,” advised Ruby, “ an’ if ye cannae behave yis kin fuck aff tae Babylon 5 an’ drink ower thon wye.”
“Thur probly bor’t oot e’ rer,” enjined Pish.
“You kin shut yur hole ya aul' tramp,” says ri spokesman, still weildin’ ri weapon an’ tryin’ ‘es hardest tae luk hard.
Lefty returned, taen in the scene, unscrewed ‘es pool cue an’ says, “Cannae get a quait drink naewhair rese days, cun ye?”
“Here,” says Specky, “you….big man. A ken yur faithur dain’t a? Is ‘e still dain’ ‘es doorman doon et the Snakepit?”
The leader aff taen oan a shoked expression et that, bit Specky wisnae feenished. “Dis ‘e still wheel yer aul’ Granny doon tae ri chapel ev’ry Sunday? ‘Hink a mibbe take a walk doon rat wye an’ see how ‘es getting’ oan.”
Ri five e’ rum wis oan thur feet noo bit ri big yin placed ri botul oan ri bor an’ heedit fur ri door. Ri sheep foalied ‘um oot.
Lefty let the thick en’ e’ ‘es pool cue slip fae ‘es coat sleeve an’ jined it up wi’ r'urr hauf. “Is it me oan next boyes aye?”
Specky gote ri beers in an’ asked Ruby tae fill a redundant ash-tray wi’ watter fur ri wee dug, ‘es dinner noo safely tuc't awa’ whair naib’dy could take it aff ‘um.
“Wunner whair ‘e gote they links?” mused Specky.
“‘Es mibbe a sausage dug,” suggested Tattie.
“Musta nicked thum oot an aul’ wummin’s bag,” says Specky, missin’ the joke an’ answerin’ ‘es ain question.
“Long hair’t Jack Russell,” says Dingo, “‘at’s whit a wid say ‘e wis.”
Ruby clear’t ri new hardmens' table an’ ri four pals took up residence efter ri pool table gote jammed.
“Ye mibbe huv a pint rer Specky,” says Tattie, “ri wee fulla disnae huv a coaler oan so mibbes ‘es hud ri aul’ heave-ho.”
“Cannae abide folk thit cannae luk efter a dug,” says Dingo, a dug man ‘esel’. “A mean, it’s no rocket science, is it?”
They aw agreed.
“Gettin’ back tae Specky’s theory,” says Tattie, “kin yis mind thone fulla Blunt, whit wis ‘es name again? Sherpy, that’s it, Sherpy Blunt. Kin yis mind him?”
“Naw,” says the three ri gither, “who wis he whin ‘e wis it hame?”
“Sherpy train’t ‘es wee dug tae dip purses oot a’ shoapin’ bags. Bit never here in Solkits man, never oan ‘es ain doorstep.”
“'Zat him they dragged oot ri harbour et Largs?” asked Lefty. “Wis it a wee rid van 'e wis in?”
“'At's ri gadgie right enough. Parked up oan ri ferry slipwye an' fell asleep efter 'es supper so 'e did. Musta hud a few bevvies cos 'e never gote oot e' the seatbelt.”
“A don't mind ony mention e' a dug.”
“Ah, ri wye a heard it ri dug somehow let ri honbrake aff an' ri van ran intae ri watter.”
“Bit a didnae hear aboot nae dug gettin' droont.”
“Sherpy hud a cat flap cut oot e' wan e' the back doors in ri van. That wye e' could stye oot e' sight while ri dug dun the bizzo wi' ri purses.”
“So, whair's ri dug noo?”
“A ken the lassie thit taen 'um in bit 'e endit up in ri dugs' hame 'cos 'e couldnae brek ri habit a' stickin' 'es nib in wummins' bags.”
“Shame rat,” says Lefty, an' them gaither't roon nodded in unison.
“Am uffy surprised yis aw don't ken 'um. Here's a 'hing. 'E used tae wrap aw rem purses up in sellafane, set up a pitch ahin the La Scala ri week afore crimbo an' sel't thum aff is new.”
“Aye!” they aw says et wans't, “noo a mind 'um.”
“The polis only twigged whit 'e wis up tae whin they dragged ri motor oot ri harbour. Pit two an' two ri gither an' solved aboot three hunner crimes et ri wan go.”
“So ye 'hink ris wee dug's been train't tae help e'sel' tae butcher meat ren Tattie?” says Specky. “Makes a loat a' sense dis that.”
“Aye,” says Tattie, “chinge fur a dollar eh?”
“Eh?”
“Chinge fur a dollar......makes cents,” explain't Tattie. That gote 'um a laff an' a hauf, an' ri wee dug stertit barkin' the bit doon.
“A'm fur wan doon et Blooters,” says Dingo, “whit dae yis say?”
“Nae borr,” says Tattie, “a waant a word wi' oor Owen an' rat's whair 'e'll mibbe be.”
They aw geid big Ruby a 'cheerio' an' a wave, an' ri wee dug yipped' es ain adios is 'e folayed thum oot. 'E nearly chinged 'es mind whin 'e cote a whiff e' ri Slaughterhoose mob gin in fur thur lunch-brek, bit ren fell in atween Tattie an' Dingo; 'e wis a friendly wee fucker so 'e wis.
They hudnae gawn faur whin a polis telt thum tae pit rur dug oan a lead. Specky glanced acroas the road tae whare a couple a' jakeys wis hasslin' a pair a' suits fur some cash an 'e felt obliged tae pint this oot.
“'Sno' oor dug Jim,” 'e says tae the polis, “ 'hink mibbe 'e belangs tae rem jakeys ower thair. 'Hink mibbe a seen 'um wi' rum earlier oan.”
That taen the bizzies attention fae ri wee dug an' ri crew wur left tae thur ain devices, namely heedin' fur the salubrious surrounds thit wis Blooters Bor.
Wi' ri conversation oan the shoart wak bein' sa rivittin', they never noticed ri wee dug wis still taggin' along. It wisnae tae they wur belly up tae ri bor thit Tattie seen 'um an' suggested Dingo, who's round it wis, should get an ash-tray full a' watter fur thur new wee pal.
Owen wisnae in, hudnae been in birrit wis mibbe a wee bit early fur um; ris accordin' tae big Borman, ri heid borman. The interior e' Blooter's's wis lined wi' auld church pews, upholster't an' mismatched bit comfortable. Tattie claim't a sate facin' ri door an' ri wee dug hopped up aside 'um. Ri wee 'hing tried 'es best tae keep up wi' ri stimulatin' repartee bit geid it up efter ten meenits an' gote 'es heid doon fur a kip; 'es heid restin' oan Tattie's leg fur a pilla.
They pit ri world tae rights fur a guid 'oor afore Owen showed 'es face, 'e hud a burd in tow as per usual; ris yin wis a gorgeous rid-heid. Owen pinted 'ur towards the bor an' approached ri conference.
“Howzit hingin' boyes? How's yur aul' maw Lefty, ony better”?
“Whair did ye meet rat yin'?” asked Lefty, ignorin' Owen's question in favour a' wan e' 'es ain. “Nice bit a' fluff that.”
Owen grin't a mile wide an' seemed happy tae reveal. “She's Swedish so she is. Met 'ur doon ri Snakepit r'urr night. Sum gadgie hid stood 'ur up.”
“An' you wur 'ur knight in shinin' armour, wis ye?”
“No et furst naw, yis ken me, approach wi' caution. A asked 'ur wis thur ony Scoatish In 'er eftur a heard 'ur talkin' tae anurr burd, ken, wi' rat heid a' rid hair an' aw an' a taen it fae rerr.”
“An' whit wis the riposte tae rat ren?” asked Specky oan behawf e' the company.
“Whit could she come back wi' bit 'naw'? An' rat's whair a played ma trump caird.”
“Goan,” says Dingo, “ah'll bite son, let's hear it.”
“Weel, a asked 'ur did she waant sum Scoatish in 'ur.”
Ri wee dug woke up wi' ri noise e' ri laughter an' sterted barkin' ri bit doon. Tattie geid 'um a wee clap oan 'es back an' e' settle't back doon.
“A see you've tapped up tae oor Tattie,” remarked Owen as 'es new burd approached wi' 'es pint, “a thote ye wurnae tae get anurr dug efter big Garrincha's demise?”
“'Sno mine so it's no. Jeest jumped intae ri company withoot sa much is a howdydoo. Din't 'e boyes? Jeest taen a shine tae us.”
Ri company nodded in agreement withoot peelin' thur peepers fae ri good luckin' rid-heid.
“Boyes! 'Is is Kjerstin aw ri wye fae Malmo,” says Owen. “Rat's Sweden bye ri wye............Kjerstin....'is is ra boyes.”
Ra boyes nodded in unison, keepin' thur gubs tight shut fur fear a' sleverin'.
“Afore a furget,” says Tattie tae Owen, “it's ri semi-finals e' ri kickba' oan Seturday an' yu'v tae be thair ur yur aff ri Xmas caird list.”
“A tel't ri weans a wis no weel fur thon last gemme so a did. A wis unner ri doactur.....”
“.....Wis ri doactur a wummin then?” interruptit Dingo. Ri laughter disturbed ri wee dug again an' e' let thum ken aw aboot it.
Kjerstin geid 'um sum Swedish patter an' sat 'ursel doon tae gie 'um a wee clap tae settle 'um again, an' it worked. Ri boyes hung oan evry wurd tae withoot kennin' whit she wis gin oan aboot.
“Here!” says Borman, who wis oot collectin' glesses durin' a quait spell. “We cannae huv nae dugs in here whair we sell food.”
“Ah'm shair 'e couldnae eat anurr 'hing Borman man,” says Tattie, “'es jeest sleepin' aff a pun a' beef links so 'e is.”
“Naw,” says Borman, missin' ri joke completely, “yis cannae bring a dug in 'cos wi serve food 'n' rat.”
“Ye cannae caw crisps an' nuts food man,” says Specky, “'sno' exactly a hoat kweeseen dinner ur nuhin' lit that.”
The wee dug decided tae jine in et that pint, barkin' ri bit doon tae Borman went aboot 'es business elsewhair.
“See whit ah've goat here Tattie,” says Owen, “a wee bit a' hash fur ye.”
“Didnae ken ye smoked noo,” says Lefty, “thote ye'd geid it up yonks ago.”
“Geid it up whin a met Tina,” says Tattie, “huvnae hud a fag ur a joint since.”
“So ye could mibbe gie me rat wee lump if ye don't yais it nae mair.”
“'E eats it,” explained Owen, “'e gote yaised tae ri taste whin 'e wis ri chief skinner up aw rem years ago.”
Tae prove ri pint, Tattie poped ri hash intae 'es gub, bit only 'cos two polis appear't in ri doorwye. They scann't ri bor fur unner age drinkers an' left withoot a wurd.
“Lebanese Gold?” enquired Tattie, rumullin' ri two joints worth a' hash roon 'es mooth. “Um a right oor Owen?”
“Spot on rat man,” says Owen, “gie 'um a coconut. By, rat's a skill an' a hauf is it no'?”
“Mellow,” says Tattie, grindin' the hash tae a pooder wi' 'es back teeth and rinsin' it doon wi' ri last e' 'es pint.
Tattie refused annur pint whin Dingo made the oaffur. “A'm fur a pish an' then u'm fur hame fur tae listen tae sum daisint sounds me. Cannae be dain' wi' thon shite honkin' oot rat juke-boax. See yoos boyes again...an Owen.....mind thon kickba' gemmes wulln't ye son?”
“Nae borr bruv man. Tell ri weans ah'll be runnin' the line fur baith gemmes ,OK?”
“Smart,” says Tattie, “awfy nice tae meet ye hen........boyes.”
While Tattie was pishin', sumb'dy open't ri cludgie door bit naeb'dy came in. Next 'hing, ri wee dug's coakin' 'es leg an' pishin' in ri gully; gein' Tattie a right laugh. “Clever wee 'hing uren't ye?” 'e says tae 'um.
Whin ri wur baith done, Tattie open't ri cludgie door an' led the wee dug back tae ri company afore turnin' 'es back an' gein' thum aw a wave cheerio.
Ri sun near blin't 'um whin 'e turn't tewards hame so 'e threw a sherp right an' stroll't doon tewards ri park tae watch ri clouds scuddin' by. Is weel is bein' bright, ri sun wis burnin' hoat. The hash wis kickin' in, the park wis deid, no a sowel in sight so Tattie hud a wee lie doon oan the grass; 'e didnae oafin get ri chance tae dae rat rese days.
Two vapour trails form't a realistic luckin' St. Andrews Cross against a big patch a' blue sky an' Tattie thote aboot runnin' hame fur 'es camera; thote aboot it.
Whin 'e woke up ri spectacle hud evaporatit so Tattie struggl't tae 'es feet an' pit 'es haun oan sumhin' waarm 'n' soaft 'n' furry; ri wee dug hid fun 'um. Tattie kent 'e hundnae been oot fur long an' thote mibbe 'e should take ri wee dug ower tae ri vet tae see if omb'dy kent 'um. It hid been near six months since auld Garrincha hud tae get the final injection an' Tattie wis oan furst name terms wi' baith vets an' thur staff in the run-up tae rat sad day.
“Guid fur you Tattie,” says wee Jinty fae behin' 'ur desk, “ye gote yursel' annur dug did ye'?”
“Funnum earlier oan Jinty hen. Then he fun me doon the park. Kin ye ask wan 'e the vets tae see if 'es chipped mibbe?”
“Nae borr. Jeest take a sate. Javeed'll no be long.”
A stoned Tattie gote right intae watchin' the Guppies breenjin' aboot ri big fish tank an' ri wee dug jumped oantae a chair tae see fur e'sel'. A wummin' came in wi' a big Alsatian an' ri wee dug flung it a glance then wint back tae admirin' ri fish.
“Tattie ma man,” says Javeed, haun' ootstretched fur the howdy doos, “wee Jinty says ye waant a favour.”
“'Sright Javeed. How's the missis by ri wye?”
“Ach ye ken. Still greetin' aboot ri heat lik she ay dis.”
“Ye should howk 'ur oot e' thon foondry man. Thon kinny heat wid be too much fur omb'dy boarn roon' aboot ris wye.”
“Naw Tattie man. A could dae rone joab staunin' oan ma heid so a could. Better'n stickin' ma haun up coos' erses fur a livin' eh?”
“Ah'll tell 'ur ye said rat whin a see 'ur comin' oot the binga whin a'm oan ri back-shift.”
“Naw yu'll no. Me an' you's pals, int wi?”
“Aye Javeed man. Ye ken a'm no a grass.”
“Says you wi' grass stickin' tae the erse e' yur jeans.”
“Here Javeed. Huv a swatch 'n' see if ris wee fella's been chipped, wull ye?”
“Nae borr brurr. A take it ye didnae get 'um fae ri cat 'n' dug hame ren?”
“Long story pal........”
“.........Erherrem,” interrupted Jinty, “yu'll huv yur appointments queuin' 'roon the block mister McNish. Missis Roehampton's here fur ye tae gie Julian ri snip.”
“Aye, yu'r right Jinty hen. C'mon in ri back Tattie an' wu'll huv a keek et yur wee dug.”
“Ye jeest yersel' ri day Javeed?” asked Tattie is ri vet ran ri geiger coonter 'hing ower ri wee fulla's bak an' neck. “Whit 'uv ye dun wi' ri lovely Morven?”
“'S'hur turn tae stick 'ur erm up coos' erses ri day,” explain't Javeed. “An she seems tae 'hink a like cuttin' dugs baws aff. Nae chip oan ri wee fulla son, 'an 'es a wee bit unnernourished so 'e is. No' much mind, 'es healthy enough. Ye gonnae take 'um tae ri pound ur dae ye waant me tae gie thum a bell?”
“See Javeed. If a wis tae ken 'e wis doon thair a'd be doon the morra fur 'um masel'. Ken whit a mean man?”
“Aye son. A'm guessin' 'es a stray. Sumb'dy's papped 'um oot an' left 'um tae it, so here's whit wu'll dae. Tell Jinty tae take 'es photy an' print it oot an' wu'll pit it in ri winda fur a week, see if omb'dy claims 'um. Ah'll gie ye a phone if rat happens bit if no', bring 'um back an' wu'll soart 'es jabs oot. How's rat fur ye?”
“Brand new brurr. Hu much dae a owe ye?”
“Oan ri hoose Tattie ma man. A've a loat a' time fur animal luvvers so a dae. Bit don't tell a sowel a didnae charge ye.”
“Yur secret's safe wi' me ya big saftie. Tell yur missis a said hullo.”
“Jinty'll soart ye oot,” says Sanjeev, showin' thum oot ri door.
Ri wee dug padded ower tae ri big Alsatian an' shook 'es heid. Ri big Alsatian made a bid fur ri door bit missis Roehampton hud a guid grip oan 'um. Jinty taen a couple a' snaps an' ri wee dug hammed it up fur 'ur. Tattie wis likin' 'um mair an' mair.
They walked through ri park again an' ri hash kicked up anurr gear. It wis braw stuff right enough. An aul' fulla wis kickin' an aul' tubey fur a big Boxer an' ri wee dug kep' it aff it fur a guid ten meenits, dribblin' here, thair an' ev'rywhair an' playin' keepy-up whin the Boxer wis bamboozl't wi' 'es skills.
“Rat'll save me takin' 'um oot again the night,” says r' aul' man whin Tattie geid 'um 'es baw back. Best run 'es hud fur munss an' munss.”
It wis hauf past three. Tina an' ri weans wurnae due back tae sixish so Tattie wint straight tae ri stereo. “Let's see how ye get oan wi' The Floyd,“ 'e said ri the wee dug, an' selected 'Animals' fae 'es CD collection, “yu'll no kin stye here if ye cannae git oan wi' rese men.”
Ri wee dug wis investigatin' ri lower flair e' the hoose, 'es nose up in the air tae catch the aromas e' ri mince. Tattie wis dain' ri same, et ri same time luckin' fur sumhin' fur ri wee fulla tae lie oan. 'E hud planned oan flingin' the auld cardy oot, ri wan 'es murr-in-law hid knittit fur 'um, ri wan Tina said 'e widnae wear. 'E wore it aw' right, wore it whin 'e wis unner ri motor, whin 'e wis oot dain' the gairden an' whin 'e wis decoratin'. 'E wid ask the aul' burd tae knit 'um a new yin; keep 'ur sweet.
'E liftit some mince fur ri wee dug an' pirrit oan the windae sill tae cool; it smel't guid. 'E didnae ken whit made 'um pit a light unner ri tatties, it wis faur too early tae be waarmin' thum up. A wee taste e' ri mince tae see it wis aw right, then 'e liftit a plate fur 'esel', jeest a wee plate tae calm ri munchies doon; mibbe stave thum aff.
Hauf an 'oor later ri slow cooker wis upside doon oan ri drainin' board beside ri newly waashed tattie pan. Ri wee dug wis fast asleep oan the cardy eftur tryin' 'es best tae stye awake fur The Floyd; pare wee sowel wis tired, tired an' fu' a' mince an' tatties. Tattie wis oan the couch, he wis fu' tae, an' wunnerin' how tae explain awa' ri disappear't dinner.
'E hud tae get up tae chinge ri CD bit ri wee dug jeest open't ri wan eye whin 'e heard Tattie movin', an shut it again whin 'e fell back oantae ri couch. Whin 'e went oot tae fold the dry waashin' intae ri laundry basket, ri wee dug wis right thair et 'es heel.
Tattie pit ri teletext oan tae check the racin' results an' scoop't ri wee dug up fur a dance roon' the livin' room whin 'e seen 'ed won two hunner an' seeventy five quid; whit a result.
It wis nearly hauf past five. “C'mon wee man,” 'e says tae ri wee dug, “lets you an' me go an' pick up ris dosh. Wi kin treat thum aw tae a Chinese seein' is how you et aw thur dinner eh?”
The park wis busier noo. Weans playin' kickba' an' folk oot walkin' thur dugs eftur bein' oot workin' aw day bit ri wee dug stuck tae Tattie's heel an' ignore't thum aw.
Nae borr pickin' up 'es winnins bit ri wee lassie behin' the coonter et ri Chinese wisnae too keen oan lettin' ri wee dug stye in ri shope. She only cloaked 'um eftur Tattie geid 'ur 'es oardur an' she'd passed it oan in tae ri back shope. Tattie wis fur gaun elsewhair bit ri gadgie Chancy geid 'um a shout an' says it wis aw right, an ren geid ri lassie a right moothfa' in Chinese.
“Ah'll kill yer faither whin 'e gets hame,” says Tina. “Aw a asked 'um tae dae wis make sure wur dinner wis ready. Yous two go an get chinged an' ah'll make a stert oan it......an' bring yer durty waashin' doon so's it disnae stink oot the hoose.”
Tattie seen the motor in ri drive an' sneaked roon' the back tae ri kitchen door. “Haw Tina doll,” 'e says through a wee crack in ri door, “huv ye hud a guid day hen?”
“Don't you doll me Tattie Zkowen. Whit happen't tae wur bliddy dinner?”
“Ah,” replied Tattie, “a hud a unexpected guest so a did.”
“'Zat right. An' who wis rat ren?”
Tattie open't ri door an' ri wee dug saunter't in lit 'e own't the place, stopin' tae huv a cursory wee sniff et Tina.
“A thote wi said wi wurnae huvin' annur dug?”
“Wi did rat doll. Bit naeb'dy tel't ris wee fulla. Ah've gote wur dinner here fae ri Chinky sa wi jeest need plates 'n' rat. Whair's the weans?”
The weans clumped doon the stairs bit nane e' ri two e' rum seen ri wee dug. 'E hud wint straight tae 'es make-shift bed an'settl't doon bit whin 'e seen the weans 'e wis oan high alert.
“Ma Mammy's gonnae kill you Daddy,” says J.J., “in't ye Mammy?”
“She disnae mean it. Tell rat wean ye don't mean it Tina Zkowen. A could get a coamplex here so a could.”
“Thur's a wee dug here,” squeal't J.J. “Who's wee dug is it?”
“Couldnae tell ye,” says Tattie, “let's aw sit doon tae wur dinner an' ah'll tell yis ri hale story. Ah've taen the liberty a getting' us aw a Chinese.”
J.J. couldnae set ri table quick enough bit 'ur sister wis oan ri flair wi' ri wee dug, makin' funny noises an' askin' 'um tae shake a paw. Ri wee dug wis happy tae humour 'ur.
“Who's rese two links fur?” asked Tina is she dished up ri dinner.
“Chancy musta pit rum in fur ri wee dug. Wi hud a wee bit e' a altercation wi' 'es wee neice.”
“Whit's 'es name?” asked Bonnie efter Tattie tel't ri tale. “Ye keep referrin' tae 'um is ri 'wee dug' so ye dae.”
“'Es no' gettin' a name,” says Tattie, “jeest in case sumb'dy turns up an' claims 'um.”
“Bit,” says Bonnie, “say ye wis tae gie 'um a name Daddy. Whit wid ye caw 'um?”
“A wid tell yis bit yis widnae unerstaun' tae ye'd seen 'um in action.”
“Aw,” ri weans says ri gither, an' laughed, “goan Daddy, tell is wull ye?”
“Aw right, aw right. Yis kin ay git roon mi so yis cun. A wid cry 'um Jinky.”
“Jinty?” says Tina who hud 'ur back tae rum dain' ri dishes an feelin' et ri links tae see if they wur cool enough fur ri wee dug. ”Efter thone wee Jinty doon et ri vet's?”
“Jinky,” repeatit Tattie. “Yur Maw's awfy slow sometimes girruls. Wull yis tell 'ur who Jinky is….......wis?”
“Wee Jinky Johnstone,” they chorused, “bit whye wid ye caw 'um rat Daddy?”
“Yis should see 'um playin' kickba'. Better'n yous two pit ri gither.”
“Y'ur an awfa kidder so ye ur Daddy,” says J.J. “When 'ur ye gonnae realise w'ur teenagers noo an' ye cannae pu' ri wool doon roon' wur eyes ony mair?”
“Time tae hit ri books yous two,” says Tattie, throwin' Tina a sly wink, “a take it yis u've gote hamework eh?”
“Aye Daddy.”
“So whit is it ri night?”
“Histry,” says Bonnie.
“Geography,” says J.J.
“Right,” says Tattie, “ah'll be ower tae help yis wi' it in a meenit. Efter yis tell is how yis gote oan et ri kickba'.”
“A wis tel't tae play in midfield 'cos Ettie Jansen's gote ri cramps wi' 'ur bad week,” says J.J.
“An' how did rat work oot fur ye?”
“Mr. Brodie says a'm a natural. Says a've git ri vision a' Gerrard.”
“Gerrard? Ri butcher's boye rit wears rem big glesses?”
“Stevie Gerrard fae Liverpool,” says J.J., throwin' 'ur eyes heavenwards in exasperation. “Ye kin be an awfy numptie sumtums Daddy.”
“An' whit aboot you ma wee pet?” says Tattie tae Bonnie. “'Ur ye gettin' a stert oan Seturday ur whit?”
“Aye Daddy. Ye ken fine ma name's furst oan ri teamsheet ev'ry week.”
“Musta furgote rat Bonnie doll. Ah'll need tae keep mind e' rat fur sure.”
Owen stroll't in wi' Kjerstin an' a six-pack a' rid tins an' pit rum in the fridge. Ri tins, no' Kjerstin.
“Se rat's whair ri wee dug gote tae is it? Soon is you went oor Tattie 'e howl't et ri door tae big Borman let 'um oot.”
“'E fun me doon et ri park,” says Tattie. “Tina, girruls, 'is is Kjerstin, oor Owens furgettin' 'es manners rerr. Kjerstin, 'is is ma Tina an' ri weans, J.J. an' Bonnie.”
Ri wee dug wis already unner Kjerstin's feet.
“An' ye ken ri wee dug dain't ye?”
“Wee cup a' tea?” Says Tina, 'cos rat's whit wimmen ay say. “Mulk an' sugar hen?”
Ri weans shut thur books ower bit Tattie threw thum wan e' 'es looks an' rey stuck thur nibs back in thum. Owen taen Kjerstin oot ri back, it wis a braw night. 'E waantit a joint an' Tina widnae huv it in the hoose, no since Tattie stoaped smokin'. She wisnae against it an' hud 'ur ain wee pipe rit Owen hud brung 'ur back fae Amsterdam wan time; bit she widnae yais it whin ri weans wur aboot. Tattie fun it fur 'ur an' sent 'ur oot ri back tae entertain ri guests while 'e helped ri weans wi' thur hamework. Whin she disappear't wi' ri drinks, 'e pit two hunner quid in ri wee boax she kep' 'ur pipe in so she wid fun it later oan. 'E ren sneaked up ri stairs an' slip't a twinty unner ri weans' pillas.
“Is oor Owen comin' tae ri kickba' Daddy?” asked Bonnie. “Ye said ye wid pu' 'um up aboot no' showin' ri last tum.”
“Aye wee hen. Bit 'e mibbe bring Kjerstin wi' 'um. Is rat aw right wi' yous two?”
“Nae borr Daddy. She luks awfy nice.”
“Luks lit she's gote unner oor Owen's skin tae,” says Tattie, “jeest lit yer Maw done wi' me. 'Is is ri furst burd 'es brought here sin' thon Claire git oaf 'ur mark wi' thon urr burd. Ken whit a'm sayin'?”
“Aye Daddy.”
“Jeezo, jings an' help ma Boab. 'At's nine a'cloak already. How did it get tae thon tum? Tell yis whit ma wee lambs. Awa' up an' huv yer showers ur yur baths ur whitever, pit yur jammys oan an' yis kin huv a wee 'oor wi' us oot the back. How dis that sound eh?”
Tina wis tuned in oan ri hash whin Tattie wint oot ri back. Hur an' Kjerstin wis getting' oan lit a hoose oan fire an' Owen wis grinnin' lit a Cheshire Cat. Ri wee dug wis sleepin' in the coarner lit 'ed bin dain' it aw 'es days.
“Ri weans ur comin' back doon fur an 'oor,” says Tattie, haunin' Owen a rid tin, “they waant tae get tae ken thur aunty Kjerstin.”
Owen snotter't beer doon 'es nose et rat bit 'e wis laughin'.
Kjerstin hud near perfect English bit evrub'dy hud tae slow 'hings doon a wee bit fur 'ur. Ri weans lap't 'ur up an' so did Tina; she could tell the lassie wis a wee bit special tae 'ur favourite brurr-in-law; 'ur only brurr-in-law.
Tina wis oan the phone. Tattie could tell it wis 'ur Murr oan ri urr en' an' signal't 'e waanted a word wi 'ur.
“Haw Maw. How ye getting' oan? Listen, if a buy the wool wull ye knit me anurr cardy? 'Is yin's aboot done in. Ye wull? Brand new. Wull wi see ye et ri kickba' oan Seturday? Aye, a kin drive ye hame bit ye kin stye fur yur dinner tae. Right, ah'll pit ma burd back oan, sees ye laters.”
“Ma Daddy says yur Swedish,” says J.J. tae Kjerstin. “D'ye ken Henrik Larsson?”
“He is footballer, yes?”
“Aye,” says Bonnie, “played furra Cellic an' oor Owen taen us tae see 'um a coupla times. 'Es pure dead brilliant so 'e is. In't 'e J.J.?”
“What means J.J.? Asked Kjerstin, copin' admirably wi' ri dialect. “Is it proper real name?”
“Shoart fur Janis Joplin,” advised Bonnie helpfully, “an' ma full name is Bonnie Raitt Zkowen. A waant tae play guitar lit hur whin a grow up.”
“When you leave school yes?”
“Whin a'm feenished playin' kickba'. Ma Daddy says a'm guid enuff tae play fur Scoatland.”
“An' a waant tae kin sing lit Janis dis, urr mibbe even better'n hur, mibbe,” says J.J.
“Yes, after you finish to play kick....kick.....kickba' yes?”
“Naw, efter a'm feenished wi' coachin' Scoatland.”
“You will be coach...trainer yes?”
“Aye. Bit jeest so's a kin boss ma big sistur aboot fur a wee chinge.”
The weans kicked oaf laughin' et rat an' ri wee dug jined in wi' ri barkin'. 'E likes a guid laugh rat wee dug so e' dis.
“Right yous two,” says Tina, “skill the morra sa get up tae yer kips.”
“Aw Maw,” says ri pair e' rum ri gither, “jeest anurr hauf an 'oor.”
“D'yis waant fur me tae tell yis?” says Tattie. “D'yis waant fur us tae set rat wee dug oan yis?”
“Aw right Daddy, wur gaun,” says Bonnie, “bit kin Kjerstin tuck us in?”
“I can do this,” says Kjerstin. “I am Nanny before I am in Scoatland, yes?”
“Lovely lassie rat,” says Tattie whin Kjerstin shooed ri weans up ri stairs, “faur too guid fur you oor Owen.”
“A like how she jeest fittit in wi' ri weans,” says Owen, ignorin' the slight, “it's early days yit bit a'm 'hinkin' a' learnin' Swedish so am ur.”
“If ye bring 'ur tae ri kickba' oan Seturday ah'll mibbes stert bulevin' ye,” says Tina, “bit Tattie's right enough, she's a lovely lassie so she is.”
Ri weans gote thur extra hauf 'oor oot a' Kjerstin, battin' questions back 'n' furrit atween rum. Ri pare lassie wis dizzy whin she came doon ri stairs bit she wis grinnin' a mile wide.
“Beautiful girls, Tina,” she says, “and so nice manners....mannered, yes?”
“Ye 'hink sa hen?” says Tina. “Here Tattie, whair'r you gaun?”
“Up tae see if she pit the right two tae bed. Disnae sound lit ma weans rat so it disnae.”
Evrub'dy laughed, an' ri wee dug barked ri bit doon.
It gote tae hauf aleevin an' Owen an' Kjerstin wis fur offski. They wantit tae catch last oardurs et Blooters.
“Wi fur a wee swally afore kick-aff oan Seturday?” Says Owen.
“Yis ur nut,” says Tina, “thon pare wummin' referee husnae recover't fae ri last tum.”
“A wis jeest kiddin' oor Tina doll. Am a chinged man a tel't ye. See yis soon, cheery bye.”
“You kin come back ony tum ye like Kjerstin doll,” says Tattie, “an' if ye need tae bring him wi' ye a s'pose it'll be awright.”
“Thank you Tattie......I think.”
“Here. Me an' ri wee dug'll walk yis doon tae ri park. Tina doll, kin ye mind whit ye done wi' rem shite bags we hud left ower fae Garrincha?”
“Huv a luk unner the sink, mibbe right et ri back. Ah'll awa' up an' check oan ri weans. Awfy nice tae meet ye Kjerstin doll.”
Thur wis a wee tear in 'ur eye; mibbes wi' ri mention a' Garrincha.
Ri wee dug fell in et Tattie's heel lik it wis second nature tae 'um. 'E let Kjerstin make a fuss e' 'um an' stood wi' Tattie is her an' Owen stroll't intae ri dorkness e' ri park.
Tattie pit ri kettle oan an' Tina came back doon ri stairs in 'ur dressin' goon. Ri kettle bile't awa' an' Tattie stared oot ri windae intae ri dorkness.
“Whit ur ye 'hinkin'? Says Tina. “Yur loast in space thair.”
“A'm 'hinkin',” says Tattie, “if a hud anurr day aff the morra wid it be onywhair near is guid is ris yin's been?”
“Yir a lovely man Tattie Zkowen. Did a ever tell ye that?” Says Tina, foldin' ri two hunner wrappers intae 'ur purse. “A lovely, lovely man so ye ur.”
“Tell me again Tina doll. Git yer erse up rey stairs an' tell me again,” says Tattie, an', turnin' tae ri wee dug, “a'm leein' you in charge Jinky, 'hink ye kin manage rat son?”
Ri wee dug wagged 'es wee tail an' geid Tattie a luk thit says, “Coont oan it Tattie man, nae borr.”
Swearwords: A few strong ones.
Description: Whit tae dae wi' a buckshee day aff.
_____________________________________________________________________
As plans went, this wan wis loose tae ri pint a’ absolute slackness, jeest ri wye Tattie liked thum.
Whit tae dae wi’ an unscheduled day aff wis ‘es only immediate problem, if ye could caw it a problem; ri day aff comin’ aboot is a result e’ a cancell't dental appointment. It wis only a check-up, a clean an’ poalish, Tattie wis tae phone in fur anurr appointment.
Ri continental shifts suited ‘um, geid ‘um a freedom a’ sorts 'es pals quaitly envied. Tattie hid tagged a hoalidy oan tae ‘es long weeken' tae accommodate ri visit tae ri dentist an’ suddenly fun ’esel’ wi’ an obligation-free day.
‘E wis up early, early enough tae gie ri wife a right guid seein’ tae afore ri weans wur aboot an’ no' long afore she hud tae get up fur ‘ur work; that pit ‘um in the guid books fur sure.
“‘Slang as ri dinner’s ready fur whin a pick ri weans up fae kickba’ practice,” she tel’t ‘um afore she left ri hoose, “ye kin dae whit ye want wi’ yur day aff……'within reason',” she added.
Since Tina worked, Tattie wis happy tae help oot wi’ ri hoosework, it wis only fair. ‘E drew the line et hooverin’ mind, fur ri simple fact ‘e couldnae hear the music fur ri noise ri hoover made. They hud a guid relationship him an’ Tina, an’ Tattie pit rat doon tae ‘es easy gawn nature, a theory ‘e fail't tae mention whiniver Tina wis aboot.
Ri weather wis an added bonus. Dry efter a wet weeken’, an’ caul’ fur July bit whit ri fuck, it wis fine an’ ‘e hud a day aff.
Tattie fil’t ri washer ren fil’t ri slow cooker wi’ ri ingredients e’ ‘es signature dish, mince, savoury mince ‘cause onyhin’ could end up in it. Hauf a tin a’ sweetcorn, hauf a tin a’ gairdin’ peas an’ some tamata soup leftower fae ri Sunday; hame made.
Rat done, ‘e tidied aw ri beds then made shoart work e’ a big fry-up.
‘E rang the dentist’s surgery while it wis in ‘es mind tae an’ made anurr appointment, carefully checkin’ ‘es work roster. ‘E hud mair hoalidays tae take bit ‘e wis savin’ thum. The Ayr Gold Cup meetin’ wis oan the horizon an’ it wis a big day oot fur him, Tina an’ three urr couples; it ay ended up as a guid week aff, win ur lose.
Tattie peel’t the tatties an’ pit thum oan tae par-bile. Bey ri time ‘ed been up tae ri shope fur a paper an’ back it wid be time tae lay rum by fur eftur an' then it widnae take rum long tae cook.
Enjoyin’ a rare cup a’ coffee, Tattie pick't oot a Placepot et Windsor, attemptit ri croasword an’ read the paper fae cover tae cover, bey which time ri washer wis in its final rinse, spin cycle ‘hing.
Ri phone rang, double glazin’, sales department. “Kin ye phone us back aboot seevin a’cloak Jim?” Says Tattie in 'es best telephone vice.
“Certainly sir, if that would be more convenient for you.”
“Ah’ll say. Ri wife’ll bey in bey ren an’ she’s goat a faur sherper tongue rin me.” Thur wis silence oan r'urr en'.
Ri bettin’ shope wis oan ri wye tae ri pub, only four ur five doors awa’. Tattie check't fur non-runners an’ laid ‘es bet, takin’ ri time tae huv a wee blether wi’ wan ur two punters ‘e kent.
Tattie didnae even glance towards ri bor whin ‘e enter't ri Blockade, insteed, heedin’ fur the table bey ri windae whur two regulars wur a’ready settl’t in; aboot three inches intae thur furst pint. As creatures a’ habit, an’ despite ri quite excellent view oot ower ri wee harbour, Dingo an’ Lefty Wright prefer't tae observe whit wis gawn oan in ri bor as opposed tae gazin’ oot ri windae. Tattie sat opposite thum an’ made a stert oan ri conversation. “Howzit gawn boyes? How’s yer aul’ maw gettin’ oan?
“Aye, no bad Tattie,” they answer't in unison, “you no’ drinkin’ then?”
Tattie didnae answer an’ waited fur the touch a’ big Ruby’s haun oan ‘es shooder as she deliver't ‘es rid tin. “Yoos boyes want anurr pint a’ thon shite yis drink? Big burd, bring thum anurr swally an’ get wan fur yersel’. Mind that’s a twinty a geid ye tae.”
“Yir a right cheeky fucker you, in’t ye?” accused Lefty, “a sumtums wunner how ye get awa’ wi’ it so a dae.”
“It’s a gift,” explained Tattie as Ruby returned wi’ the drinks. “Here Ruby, you been gawn tae thon weight watchers ur whit?”
“Naw son. It’s these spray oan latex lurex spandex slimmin’ troosers makin’ ye ‘hink rat. It’s still aw me inside thum bit thanks fur noticin’”.
“Ah’m no huvin’ that Ruby. Get yer erse ower here tae a huv a feel fur masel’, ah’m share yuv loast hauf a stane sin' a last seen ye.”
Lefty an’ Dingo luc’t oan as Tattie ran ‘es hauns ower Ruby’s ample backside, seemingly satisfyin' 'es earlier curiosity regardin' 'ur apparent weight loss. “Ah’m no’ too sure whit yer sayin’ is right Ruby doll. Yur mibbe better tae step oot ‘e they spray oan thingies so’s a kin see fur massel’.
“Nae chance ya horny bastart ye. It taen me hauf an ‘oor tae get intae ri fuckers an’ you jeest waant tae say it only taen ye five meenits.”
The conversation stoaped there as ri new crew, aw five e’ thum, sloped intae ri faur coarner, ri dork coarner. Ruby wis oan thum in a flash.
“If yuv brung yur ain drink yis kin fuck oaf back oot that door. Ah’m no’ huvin’ yis rippin’ ri pish oot e’ ma pub.” They wis subjected tae a cursory inspection afore bein' allowed tae take up residence. These wur ri new up an’ comin’ hardmen. Hard whin thur wis five e' thum. Nearly as hard whin thur wis four ‘e thum an’ saft as shite whin they wur reduced tae jeest the three, as dictated doon through the ages.
They usually played pool, ri new hardmen, bit Tattie set ri baws up an’ challenged either Dingo ur Lefty tae a gemme. Ri new hardmen opted fur a gemme a’ dominoes, probly as an act a’ defiance bit they didnae hauf gie it awa’ whin they stertit arguin’ the toss is tae who should play furst.
Tattie sweet-talked Ruby intae ratchin’ up a guid few credits oan ri juke-boax an’ made a pint a' selectin' ri type a’ song ri new hardmen widnae appreciate; yur Blues, Heavy Rock, thon Americana an’ a wee bit a’ Soul, urrwise ri bor wid reverberate tae ri strains e’ thon mind numbin’ rap crap.
Tae try tae compensate, ri new hardmen played dominoes lit West Indians, slammin’ ri tiles intae ri widden board. Thur wis trouble brewin’.
A fireman in full uniform enter't an’ bellied up tae ri bor beside aul’ Pish Staines, regular bor-fly an’ wit.
“Ah wis in here oan Seturday night hen,” says the fireman, directin’ ’es comments in big Ruby’s direction.
“An whit?” says she, “ye left yur hose lyin’ aboot?”
“’Sno’ that missis. A jeest noticed yur fire doors wis wide tae ri wa’ an’ that’s against regulations.”
“Lea ri lassie alain ya joabsworth bastart,” piped Pish, “she’s goat enuff oan ‘ur plate withoot yoos lot cummin’ in hasslin’.”
“A wis gonnae say, if ye’d jest let me feenish, a’m here tae gie ‘ur a friendly heeds up aboot an upcummin inspection.”
“Sorry son. Sorry fur jumpin’ ri gun rerr,” slurred Pish, “here Ruby doll, gie ris gadgie a drink. Whit’ll it be pal, heavy?”
“A’m oan duty Jim. Jeest thote a wid crack oan aboot them doors is aw.”
“A hauf? Wull ye huv a wee hauf then? Ruby, gie ‘um a wee hauf tae keep ri caul’ oot.”
“Gie it a rest Pish wull ye? ‘Es only daiin’ us a favour…..Thanks son, ah’ll see tae it rurr shut.”
“Here Tattie,” says Dingo, “wis thon a relation a’ yours a seen in ri paper r'urr day?”
“Whit wis rat aw aboot?” asked Tattie.
“Fulla wi’ ra same surname is you. Same spellin’ tae. Won a couple a’ hunner thoosin’ oan the Lottery.”
“It wisnae oor Owen wis it? Naw, the weans wid a’ gote it oot ‘e ‘um if it wis.”
“Naw Tattie. A wid uv asked your Owen aboot it afore approachin’ yersel’,”
“Same spellin’ ye say? An’ fae roon’ aboot here?”
“Somewhere doon in Englin’. Yorkshur wyes, mibbes Sheffield.”
“No wi’ ri same spellin’ sharely. A thote we wis unique wi’ ri surname. Mind a tel’t yis how it came aboot?”
“Niver tel’t us,” says ri pair e’ thum ri gither. “Yu’ll need tae tell us noo, noo thit yuv stertit.”
“‘Sno a long story, an’ yis kin stope me if yuv heard it. Ma aul’ Papa wis Poalish, boarn here bit brote up talkin’ hauf Poalish ye ken? ‘E wis workin’ oan the grip is a windae cleaner, bit ‘e hud tae sign et ri broo ev'ry day an’ e’ only gote hauf an ‘oor fur ‘es dinner. Sin’ it taen ‘um twinty meenits tae sign ‘is name ‘e decided tae chinge it bey deed poll, the wye thon Cassius Clay dun, mind?
So, ‘e lopped aw ri exes an’ y s oaf ey ri name so’s it widnae take is lang tae write; clever eh?”
“So how comes sumdy else a few hunner’ mile awa’ hud ri same idea ren?” asked Lefty.
“Musta hud the same proablum is the auld yin. Bit sayin’ that, it mibbes wisnae ri same name is mine tae stert wi’. Ken whi’ a mean boyes? 'Urs loats a’ Poalish names oot thair thit ur un-pronounceable.”
“A ‘hink a mind ye tellin’ me rat afore noo,” says Lefty, pittin’ ‘es jaikit oan tae go oot fur a smoke; thus renderin’ the coanversation stane deid.
Specky McSpot reinforced ri pool table area oan Lefty’s absence, oaferin’ how de do’s tae Tattie an’ Dingo an’ wunnerin’ did they waant a drink.
Pish left tae go doon tae ‘es club an’ is ‘e open’t ri door a wee white dug skitter’t in wi’ a broon paper parcel in its mooth. A curious Pish folayed it back in an'order't anurr drink. Ri wee dug heedet fur ri table ri Domino players wis loudin’ it up et an’ set aboot rippin’ ri broon paper apert. Wan ‘e ri new hardmen taen a kick et ri wee dug an’ gote ‘es troosers ripped in retaliation.
That wis it. ‘E wis oan ‘es feet, empty botul in ‘es haun an’ gunnin’ fur blood.
Ri wee dug taen refuge unner ri pool table, draggin’ a pun a’ beef links wi’ um.
“Pit ri botul doon,” advised Ruby, “ an’ if ye cannae behave yis kin fuck aff tae Babylon 5 an’ drink ower thon wye.”
“Thur probly bor’t oot e’ rer,” enjined Pish.
“You kin shut yur hole ya aul' tramp,” says ri spokesman, still weildin’ ri weapon an’ tryin’ ‘es hardest tae luk hard.
Lefty returned, taen in the scene, unscrewed ‘es pool cue an’ says, “Cannae get a quait drink naewhair rese days, cun ye?”
“Here,” says Specky, “you….big man. A ken yur faithur dain’t a? Is ‘e still dain’ ‘es doorman doon et the Snakepit?”
The leader aff taen oan a shoked expression et that, bit Specky wisnae feenished. “Dis ‘e still wheel yer aul’ Granny doon tae ri chapel ev’ry Sunday? ‘Hink a mibbe take a walk doon rat wye an’ see how ‘es getting’ oan.”
Ri five e’ rum wis oan thur feet noo bit ri big yin placed ri botul oan ri bor an’ heedit fur ri door. Ri sheep foalied ‘um oot.
Lefty let the thick en’ e’ ‘es pool cue slip fae ‘es coat sleeve an’ jined it up wi’ r'urr hauf. “Is it me oan next boyes aye?”
Specky gote ri beers in an’ asked Ruby tae fill a redundant ash-tray wi’ watter fur ri wee dug, ‘es dinner noo safely tuc't awa’ whair naib’dy could take it aff ‘um.
“Wunner whair ‘e gote they links?” mused Specky.
“‘Es mibbe a sausage dug,” suggested Tattie.
“Musta nicked thum oot an aul’ wummin’s bag,” says Specky, missin’ the joke an’ answerin’ ‘es ain question.
“Long hair’t Jack Russell,” says Dingo, “‘at’s whit a wid say ‘e wis.”
Ruby clear’t ri new hardmens' table an’ ri four pals took up residence efter ri pool table gote jammed.
“Ye mibbe huv a pint rer Specky,” says Tattie, “ri wee fulla disnae huv a coaler oan so mibbes ‘es hud ri aul’ heave-ho.”
“Cannae abide folk thit cannae luk efter a dug,” says Dingo, a dug man ‘esel’. “A mean, it’s no rocket science, is it?”
They aw agreed.
“Gettin’ back tae Specky’s theory,” says Tattie, “kin yis mind thone fulla Blunt, whit wis ‘es name again? Sherpy, that’s it, Sherpy Blunt. Kin yis mind him?”
“Naw,” says the three ri gither, “who wis he whin ‘e wis it hame?”
“Sherpy train’t ‘es wee dug tae dip purses oot a’ shoapin’ bags. Bit never here in Solkits man, never oan ‘es ain doorstep.”
“'Zat him they dragged oot ri harbour et Largs?” asked Lefty. “Wis it a wee rid van 'e wis in?”
“'At's ri gadgie right enough. Parked up oan ri ferry slipwye an' fell asleep efter 'es supper so 'e did. Musta hud a few bevvies cos 'e never gote oot e' the seatbelt.”
“A don't mind ony mention e' a dug.”
“Ah, ri wye a heard it ri dug somehow let ri honbrake aff an' ri van ran intae ri watter.”
“Bit a didnae hear aboot nae dug gettin' droont.”
“Sherpy hud a cat flap cut oot e' wan e' the back doors in ri van. That wye e' could stye oot e' sight while ri dug dun the bizzo wi' ri purses.”
“So, whair's ri dug noo?”
“A ken the lassie thit taen 'um in bit 'e endit up in ri dugs' hame 'cos 'e couldnae brek ri habit a' stickin' 'es nib in wummins' bags.”
“Shame rat,” says Lefty, an' them gaither't roon nodded in unison.
“Am uffy surprised yis aw don't ken 'um. Here's a 'hing. 'E used tae wrap aw rem purses up in sellafane, set up a pitch ahin the La Scala ri week afore crimbo an' sel't thum aff is new.”
“Aye!” they aw says et wans't, “noo a mind 'um.”
“The polis only twigged whit 'e wis up tae whin they dragged ri motor oot ri harbour. Pit two an' two ri gither an' solved aboot three hunner crimes et ri wan go.”
“So ye 'hink ris wee dug's been train't tae help e'sel' tae butcher meat ren Tattie?” says Specky. “Makes a loat a' sense dis that.”
“Aye,” says Tattie, “chinge fur a dollar eh?”
“Eh?”
“Chinge fur a dollar......makes cents,” explain't Tattie. That gote 'um a laff an' a hauf, an' ri wee dug stertit barkin' the bit doon.
“A'm fur wan doon et Blooters,” says Dingo, “whit dae yis say?”
“Nae borr,” says Tattie, “a waant a word wi' oor Owen an' rat's whair 'e'll mibbe be.”
They aw geid big Ruby a 'cheerio' an' a wave, an' ri wee dug yipped' es ain adios is 'e folayed thum oot. 'E nearly chinged 'es mind whin 'e cote a whiff e' ri Slaughterhoose mob gin in fur thur lunch-brek, bit ren fell in atween Tattie an' Dingo; 'e wis a friendly wee fucker so 'e wis.
They hudnae gawn faur whin a polis telt thum tae pit rur dug oan a lead. Specky glanced acroas the road tae whare a couple a' jakeys wis hasslin' a pair a' suits fur some cash an 'e felt obliged tae pint this oot.
“'Sno' oor dug Jim,” 'e says tae the polis, “ 'hink mibbe 'e belangs tae rem jakeys ower thair. 'Hink mibbe a seen 'um wi' rum earlier oan.”
That taen the bizzies attention fae ri wee dug an' ri crew wur left tae thur ain devices, namely heedin' fur the salubrious surrounds thit wis Blooters Bor.
Wi' ri conversation oan the shoart wak bein' sa rivittin', they never noticed ri wee dug wis still taggin' along. It wisnae tae they wur belly up tae ri bor thit Tattie seen 'um an' suggested Dingo, who's round it wis, should get an ash-tray full a' watter fur thur new wee pal.
Owen wisnae in, hudnae been in birrit wis mibbe a wee bit early fur um; ris accordin' tae big Borman, ri heid borman. The interior e' Blooter's's wis lined wi' auld church pews, upholster't an' mismatched bit comfortable. Tattie claim't a sate facin' ri door an' ri wee dug hopped up aside 'um. Ri wee 'hing tried 'es best tae keep up wi' ri stimulatin' repartee bit geid it up efter ten meenits an' gote 'es heid doon fur a kip; 'es heid restin' oan Tattie's leg fur a pilla.
They pit ri world tae rights fur a guid 'oor afore Owen showed 'es face, 'e hud a burd in tow as per usual; ris yin wis a gorgeous rid-heid. Owen pinted 'ur towards the bor an' approached ri conference.
“Howzit hingin' boyes? How's yur aul' maw Lefty, ony better”?
“Whair did ye meet rat yin'?” asked Lefty, ignorin' Owen's question in favour a' wan e' 'es ain. “Nice bit a' fluff that.”
Owen grin't a mile wide an' seemed happy tae reveal. “She's Swedish so she is. Met 'ur doon ri Snakepit r'urr night. Sum gadgie hid stood 'ur up.”
“An' you wur 'ur knight in shinin' armour, wis ye?”
“No et furst naw, yis ken me, approach wi' caution. A asked 'ur wis thur ony Scoatish In 'er eftur a heard 'ur talkin' tae anurr burd, ken, wi' rat heid a' rid hair an' aw an' a taen it fae rerr.”
“An' whit wis the riposte tae rat ren?” asked Specky oan behawf e' the company.
“Whit could she come back wi' bit 'naw'? An' rat's whair a played ma trump caird.”
“Goan,” says Dingo, “ah'll bite son, let's hear it.”
“Weel, a asked 'ur did she waant sum Scoatish in 'ur.”
Ri wee dug woke up wi' ri noise e' ri laughter an' sterted barkin' ri bit doon. Tattie geid 'um a wee clap oan 'es back an' e' settle't back doon.
“A see you've tapped up tae oor Tattie,” remarked Owen as 'es new burd approached wi' 'es pint, “a thote ye wurnae tae get anurr dug efter big Garrincha's demise?”
“'Sno mine so it's no. Jeest jumped intae ri company withoot sa much is a howdydoo. Din't 'e boyes? Jeest taen a shine tae us.”
Ri company nodded in agreement withoot peelin' thur peepers fae ri good luckin' rid-heid.
“Boyes! 'Is is Kjerstin aw ri wye fae Malmo,” says Owen. “Rat's Sweden bye ri wye............Kjerstin....'is is ra boyes.”
Ra boyes nodded in unison, keepin' thur gubs tight shut fur fear a' sleverin'.
“Afore a furget,” says Tattie tae Owen, “it's ri semi-finals e' ri kickba' oan Seturday an' yu'v tae be thair ur yur aff ri Xmas caird list.”
“A tel't ri weans a wis no weel fur thon last gemme so a did. A wis unner ri doactur.....”
“.....Wis ri doactur a wummin then?” interruptit Dingo. Ri laughter disturbed ri wee dug again an' e' let thum ken aw aboot it.
Kjerstin geid 'um sum Swedish patter an' sat 'ursel doon tae gie 'um a wee clap tae settle 'um again, an' it worked. Ri boyes hung oan evry wurd tae withoot kennin' whit she wis gin oan aboot.
“Here!” says Borman, who wis oot collectin' glesses durin' a quait spell. “We cannae huv nae dugs in here whair we sell food.”
“Ah'm shair 'e couldnae eat anurr 'hing Borman man,” says Tattie, “'es jeest sleepin' aff a pun a' beef links so 'e is.”
“Naw,” says Borman, missin' ri joke completely, “yis cannae bring a dug in 'cos wi serve food 'n' rat.”
“Ye cannae caw crisps an' nuts food man,” says Specky, “'sno' exactly a hoat kweeseen dinner ur nuhin' lit that.”
The wee dug decided tae jine in et that pint, barkin' ri bit doon tae Borman went aboot 'es business elsewhair.
“See whit ah've goat here Tattie,” says Owen, “a wee bit a' hash fur ye.”
“Didnae ken ye smoked noo,” says Lefty, “thote ye'd geid it up yonks ago.”
“Geid it up whin a met Tina,” says Tattie, “huvnae hud a fag ur a joint since.”
“So ye could mibbe gie me rat wee lump if ye don't yais it nae mair.”
“'E eats it,” explained Owen, “'e gote yaised tae ri taste whin 'e wis ri chief skinner up aw rem years ago.”
Tae prove ri pint, Tattie poped ri hash intae 'es gub, bit only 'cos two polis appear't in ri doorwye. They scann't ri bor fur unner age drinkers an' left withoot a wurd.
“Lebanese Gold?” enquired Tattie, rumullin' ri two joints worth a' hash roon 'es mooth. “Um a right oor Owen?”
“Spot on rat man,” says Owen, “gie 'um a coconut. By, rat's a skill an' a hauf is it no'?”
“Mellow,” says Tattie, grindin' the hash tae a pooder wi' 'es back teeth and rinsin' it doon wi' ri last e' 'es pint.
Tattie refused annur pint whin Dingo made the oaffur. “A'm fur a pish an' then u'm fur hame fur tae listen tae sum daisint sounds me. Cannae be dain' wi' thon shite honkin' oot rat juke-boax. See yoos boyes again...an Owen.....mind thon kickba' gemmes wulln't ye son?”
“Nae borr bruv man. Tell ri weans ah'll be runnin' the line fur baith gemmes ,OK?”
“Smart,” says Tattie, “awfy nice tae meet ye hen........boyes.”
While Tattie was pishin', sumb'dy open't ri cludgie door bit naeb'dy came in. Next 'hing, ri wee dug's coakin' 'es leg an' pishin' in ri gully; gein' Tattie a right laugh. “Clever wee 'hing uren't ye?” 'e says tae 'um.
Whin ri wur baith done, Tattie open't ri cludgie door an' led the wee dug back tae ri company afore turnin' 'es back an' gein' thum aw a wave cheerio.
Ri sun near blin't 'um whin 'e turn't tewards hame so 'e threw a sherp right an' stroll't doon tewards ri park tae watch ri clouds scuddin' by. Is weel is bein' bright, ri sun wis burnin' hoat. The hash wis kickin' in, the park wis deid, no a sowel in sight so Tattie hud a wee lie doon oan the grass; 'e didnae oafin get ri chance tae dae rat rese days.
Two vapour trails form't a realistic luckin' St. Andrews Cross against a big patch a' blue sky an' Tattie thote aboot runnin' hame fur 'es camera; thote aboot it.
Whin 'e woke up ri spectacle hud evaporatit so Tattie struggl't tae 'es feet an' pit 'es haun oan sumhin' waarm 'n' soaft 'n' furry; ri wee dug hid fun 'um. Tattie kent 'e hundnae been oot fur long an' thote mibbe 'e should take ri wee dug ower tae ri vet tae see if omb'dy kent 'um. It hid been near six months since auld Garrincha hud tae get the final injection an' Tattie wis oan furst name terms wi' baith vets an' thur staff in the run-up tae rat sad day.
“Guid fur you Tattie,” says wee Jinty fae behin' 'ur desk, “ye gote yursel' annur dug did ye'?”
“Funnum earlier oan Jinty hen. Then he fun me doon the park. Kin ye ask wan 'e the vets tae see if 'es chipped mibbe?”
“Nae borr. Jeest take a sate. Javeed'll no be long.”
A stoned Tattie gote right intae watchin' the Guppies breenjin' aboot ri big fish tank an' ri wee dug jumped oantae a chair tae see fur e'sel'. A wummin' came in wi' a big Alsatian an' ri wee dug flung it a glance then wint back tae admirin' ri fish.
“Tattie ma man,” says Javeed, haun' ootstretched fur the howdy doos, “wee Jinty says ye waant a favour.”
“'Sright Javeed. How's the missis by ri wye?”
“Ach ye ken. Still greetin' aboot ri heat lik she ay dis.”
“Ye should howk 'ur oot e' thon foondry man. Thon kinny heat wid be too much fur omb'dy boarn roon' aboot ris wye.”
“Naw Tattie man. A could dae rone joab staunin' oan ma heid so a could. Better'n stickin' ma haun up coos' erses fur a livin' eh?”
“Ah'll tell 'ur ye said rat whin a see 'ur comin' oot the binga whin a'm oan ri back-shift.”
“Naw yu'll no. Me an' you's pals, int wi?”
“Aye Javeed man. Ye ken a'm no a grass.”
“Says you wi' grass stickin' tae the erse e' yur jeans.”
“Here Javeed. Huv a swatch 'n' see if ris wee fella's been chipped, wull ye?”
“Nae borr brurr. A take it ye didnae get 'um fae ri cat 'n' dug hame ren?”
“Long story pal........”
“.........Erherrem,” interrupted Jinty, “yu'll huv yur appointments queuin' 'roon the block mister McNish. Missis Roehampton's here fur ye tae gie Julian ri snip.”
“Aye, yu'r right Jinty hen. C'mon in ri back Tattie an' wu'll huv a keek et yur wee dug.”
“Ye jeest yersel' ri day Javeed?” asked Tattie is ri vet ran ri geiger coonter 'hing ower ri wee fulla's bak an' neck. “Whit 'uv ye dun wi' ri lovely Morven?”
“'S'hur turn tae stick 'ur erm up coos' erses ri day,” explain't Javeed. “An she seems tae 'hink a like cuttin' dugs baws aff. Nae chip oan ri wee fulla son, 'an 'es a wee bit unnernourished so 'e is. No' much mind, 'es healthy enough. Ye gonnae take 'um tae ri pound ur dae ye waant me tae gie thum a bell?”
“See Javeed. If a wis tae ken 'e wis doon thair a'd be doon the morra fur 'um masel'. Ken whit a mean man?”
“Aye son. A'm guessin' 'es a stray. Sumb'dy's papped 'um oot an' left 'um tae it, so here's whit wu'll dae. Tell Jinty tae take 'es photy an' print it oot an' wu'll pit it in ri winda fur a week, see if omb'dy claims 'um. Ah'll gie ye a phone if rat happens bit if no', bring 'um back an' wu'll soart 'es jabs oot. How's rat fur ye?”
“Brand new brurr. Hu much dae a owe ye?”
“Oan ri hoose Tattie ma man. A've a loat a' time fur animal luvvers so a dae. Bit don't tell a sowel a didnae charge ye.”
“Yur secret's safe wi' me ya big saftie. Tell yur missis a said hullo.”
“Jinty'll soart ye oot,” says Sanjeev, showin' thum oot ri door.
Ri wee dug padded ower tae ri big Alsatian an' shook 'es heid. Ri big Alsatian made a bid fur ri door bit missis Roehampton hud a guid grip oan 'um. Jinty taen a couple a' snaps an' ri wee dug hammed it up fur 'ur. Tattie wis likin' 'um mair an' mair.
They walked through ri park again an' ri hash kicked up anurr gear. It wis braw stuff right enough. An aul' fulla wis kickin' an aul' tubey fur a big Boxer an' ri wee dug kep' it aff it fur a guid ten meenits, dribblin' here, thair an' ev'rywhair an' playin' keepy-up whin the Boxer wis bamboozl't wi' 'es skills.
“Rat'll save me takin' 'um oot again the night,” says r' aul' man whin Tattie geid 'um 'es baw back. Best run 'es hud fur munss an' munss.”
It wis hauf past three. Tina an' ri weans wurnae due back tae sixish so Tattie wint straight tae ri stereo. “Let's see how ye get oan wi' The Floyd,“ 'e said ri the wee dug, an' selected 'Animals' fae 'es CD collection, “yu'll no kin stye here if ye cannae git oan wi' rese men.”
Ri wee dug wis investigatin' ri lower flair e' the hoose, 'es nose up in the air tae catch the aromas e' ri mince. Tattie wis dain' ri same, et ri same time luckin' fur sumhin' fur ri wee fulla tae lie oan. 'E hud planned oan flingin' the auld cardy oot, ri wan 'es murr-in-law hid knittit fur 'um, ri wan Tina said 'e widnae wear. 'E wore it aw' right, wore it whin 'e wis unner ri motor, whin 'e wis oot dain' the gairden an' whin 'e wis decoratin'. 'E wid ask the aul' burd tae knit 'um a new yin; keep 'ur sweet.
'E liftit some mince fur ri wee dug an' pirrit oan the windae sill tae cool; it smel't guid. 'E didnae ken whit made 'um pit a light unner ri tatties, it wis faur too early tae be waarmin' thum up. A wee taste e' ri mince tae see it wis aw right, then 'e liftit a plate fur 'esel', jeest a wee plate tae calm ri munchies doon; mibbe stave thum aff.
Hauf an 'oor later ri slow cooker wis upside doon oan ri drainin' board beside ri newly waashed tattie pan. Ri wee dug wis fast asleep oan the cardy eftur tryin' 'es best tae stye awake fur The Floyd; pare wee sowel wis tired, tired an' fu' a' mince an' tatties. Tattie wis oan the couch, he wis fu' tae, an' wunnerin' how tae explain awa' ri disappear't dinner.
'E hud tae get up tae chinge ri CD bit ri wee dug jeest open't ri wan eye whin 'e heard Tattie movin', an shut it again whin 'e fell back oantae ri couch. Whin 'e went oot tae fold the dry waashin' intae ri laundry basket, ri wee dug wis right thair et 'es heel.
Tattie pit ri teletext oan tae check the racin' results an' scoop't ri wee dug up fur a dance roon' the livin' room whin 'e seen 'ed won two hunner an' seeventy five quid; whit a result.
It wis nearly hauf past five. “C'mon wee man,” 'e says tae ri wee dug, “lets you an' me go an' pick up ris dosh. Wi kin treat thum aw tae a Chinese seein' is how you et aw thur dinner eh?”
The park wis busier noo. Weans playin' kickba' an' folk oot walkin' thur dugs eftur bein' oot workin' aw day bit ri wee dug stuck tae Tattie's heel an' ignore't thum aw.
Nae borr pickin' up 'es winnins bit ri wee lassie behin' the coonter et ri Chinese wisnae too keen oan lettin' ri wee dug stye in ri shope. She only cloaked 'um eftur Tattie geid 'ur 'es oardur an' she'd passed it oan in tae ri back shope. Tattie wis fur gaun elsewhair bit ri gadgie Chancy geid 'um a shout an' says it wis aw right, an ren geid ri lassie a right moothfa' in Chinese.
“Ah'll kill yer faither whin 'e gets hame,” says Tina. “Aw a asked 'um tae dae wis make sure wur dinner wis ready. Yous two go an get chinged an' ah'll make a stert oan it......an' bring yer durty waashin' doon so's it disnae stink oot the hoose.”
Tattie seen the motor in ri drive an' sneaked roon' the back tae ri kitchen door. “Haw Tina doll,” 'e says through a wee crack in ri door, “huv ye hud a guid day hen?”
“Don't you doll me Tattie Zkowen. Whit happen't tae wur bliddy dinner?”
“Ah,” replied Tattie, “a hud a unexpected guest so a did.”
“'Zat right. An' who wis rat ren?”
Tattie open't ri door an' ri wee dug saunter't in lit 'e own't the place, stopin' tae huv a cursory wee sniff et Tina.
“A thote wi said wi wurnae huvin' annur dug?”
“Wi did rat doll. Bit naeb'dy tel't ris wee fulla. Ah've gote wur dinner here fae ri Chinky sa wi jeest need plates 'n' rat. Whair's the weans?”
The weans clumped doon the stairs bit nane e' ri two e' rum seen ri wee dug. 'E hud wint straight tae 'es make-shift bed an'settl't doon bit whin 'e seen the weans 'e wis oan high alert.
“Ma Mammy's gonnae kill you Daddy,” says J.J., “in't ye Mammy?”
“She disnae mean it. Tell rat wean ye don't mean it Tina Zkowen. A could get a coamplex here so a could.”
“Thur's a wee dug here,” squeal't J.J. “Who's wee dug is it?”
“Couldnae tell ye,” says Tattie, “let's aw sit doon tae wur dinner an' ah'll tell yis ri hale story. Ah've taen the liberty a getting' us aw a Chinese.”
J.J. couldnae set ri table quick enough bit 'ur sister wis oan ri flair wi' ri wee dug, makin' funny noises an' askin' 'um tae shake a paw. Ri wee dug wis happy tae humour 'ur.
“Who's rese two links fur?” asked Tina is she dished up ri dinner.
“Chancy musta pit rum in fur ri wee dug. Wi hud a wee bit e' a altercation wi' 'es wee neice.”
“Whit's 'es name?” asked Bonnie efter Tattie tel't ri tale. “Ye keep referrin' tae 'um is ri 'wee dug' so ye dae.”
“'Es no' gettin' a name,” says Tattie, “jeest in case sumb'dy turns up an' claims 'um.”
“Bit,” says Bonnie, “say ye wis tae gie 'um a name Daddy. Whit wid ye caw 'um?”
“A wid tell yis bit yis widnae unerstaun' tae ye'd seen 'um in action.”
“Aw,” ri weans says ri gither, an' laughed, “goan Daddy, tell is wull ye?”
“Aw right, aw right. Yis kin ay git roon mi so yis cun. A wid cry 'um Jinky.”
“Jinty?” says Tina who hud 'ur back tae rum dain' ri dishes an feelin' et ri links tae see if they wur cool enough fur ri wee dug. ”Efter thone wee Jinty doon et ri vet's?”
“Jinky,” repeatit Tattie. “Yur Maw's awfy slow sometimes girruls. Wull yis tell 'ur who Jinky is….......wis?”
“Wee Jinky Johnstone,” they chorused, “bit whye wid ye caw 'um rat Daddy?”
“Yis should see 'um playin' kickba'. Better'n yous two pit ri gither.”
“Y'ur an awfa kidder so ye ur Daddy,” says J.J. “When 'ur ye gonnae realise w'ur teenagers noo an' ye cannae pu' ri wool doon roon' wur eyes ony mair?”
“Time tae hit ri books yous two,” says Tattie, throwin' Tina a sly wink, “a take it yis u've gote hamework eh?”
“Aye Daddy.”
“So whit is it ri night?”
“Histry,” says Bonnie.
“Geography,” says J.J.
“Right,” says Tattie, “ah'll be ower tae help yis wi' it in a meenit. Efter yis tell is how yis gote oan et ri kickba'.”
“A wis tel't tae play in midfield 'cos Ettie Jansen's gote ri cramps wi' 'ur bad week,” says J.J.
“An' how did rat work oot fur ye?”
“Mr. Brodie says a'm a natural. Says a've git ri vision a' Gerrard.”
“Gerrard? Ri butcher's boye rit wears rem big glesses?”
“Stevie Gerrard fae Liverpool,” says J.J., throwin' 'ur eyes heavenwards in exasperation. “Ye kin be an awfy numptie sumtums Daddy.”
“An' whit aboot you ma wee pet?” says Tattie tae Bonnie. “'Ur ye gettin' a stert oan Seturday ur whit?”
“Aye Daddy. Ye ken fine ma name's furst oan ri teamsheet ev'ry week.”
“Musta furgote rat Bonnie doll. Ah'll need tae keep mind e' rat fur sure.”
Owen stroll't in wi' Kjerstin an' a six-pack a' rid tins an' pit rum in the fridge. Ri tins, no' Kjerstin.
“Se rat's whair ri wee dug gote tae is it? Soon is you went oor Tattie 'e howl't et ri door tae big Borman let 'um oot.”
“'E fun me doon et ri park,” says Tattie. “Tina, girruls, 'is is Kjerstin, oor Owens furgettin' 'es manners rerr. Kjerstin, 'is is ma Tina an' ri weans, J.J. an' Bonnie.”
Ri wee dug wis already unner Kjerstin's feet.
“An' ye ken ri wee dug dain't ye?”
“Wee cup a' tea?” Says Tina, 'cos rat's whit wimmen ay say. “Mulk an' sugar hen?”
Ri weans shut thur books ower bit Tattie threw thum wan e' 'es looks an' rey stuck thur nibs back in thum. Owen taen Kjerstin oot ri back, it wis a braw night. 'E waantit a joint an' Tina widnae huv it in the hoose, no since Tattie stoaped smokin'. She wisnae against it an' hud 'ur ain wee pipe rit Owen hud brung 'ur back fae Amsterdam wan time; bit she widnae yais it whin ri weans wur aboot. Tattie fun it fur 'ur an' sent 'ur oot ri back tae entertain ri guests while 'e helped ri weans wi' thur hamework. Whin she disappear't wi' ri drinks, 'e pit two hunner quid in ri wee boax she kep' 'ur pipe in so she wid fun it later oan. 'E ren sneaked up ri stairs an' slip't a twinty unner ri weans' pillas.
“Is oor Owen comin' tae ri kickba' Daddy?” asked Bonnie. “Ye said ye wid pu' 'um up aboot no' showin' ri last tum.”
“Aye wee hen. Bit 'e mibbe bring Kjerstin wi' 'um. Is rat aw right wi' yous two?”
“Nae borr Daddy. She luks awfy nice.”
“Luks lit she's gote unner oor Owen's skin tae,” says Tattie, “jeest lit yer Maw done wi' me. 'Is is ri furst burd 'es brought here sin' thon Claire git oaf 'ur mark wi' thon urr burd. Ken whit a'm sayin'?”
“Aye Daddy.”
“Jeezo, jings an' help ma Boab. 'At's nine a'cloak already. How did it get tae thon tum? Tell yis whit ma wee lambs. Awa' up an' huv yer showers ur yur baths ur whitever, pit yur jammys oan an' yis kin huv a wee 'oor wi' us oot the back. How dis that sound eh?”
Tina wis tuned in oan ri hash whin Tattie wint oot ri back. Hur an' Kjerstin wis getting' oan lit a hoose oan fire an' Owen wis grinnin' lit a Cheshire Cat. Ri wee dug wis sleepin' in the coarner lit 'ed bin dain' it aw 'es days.
“Ri weans ur comin' back doon fur an 'oor,” says Tattie, haunin' Owen a rid tin, “they waant tae get tae ken thur aunty Kjerstin.”
Owen snotter't beer doon 'es nose et rat bit 'e wis laughin'.
Kjerstin hud near perfect English bit evrub'dy hud tae slow 'hings doon a wee bit fur 'ur. Ri weans lap't 'ur up an' so did Tina; she could tell the lassie wis a wee bit special tae 'ur favourite brurr-in-law; 'ur only brurr-in-law.
Tina wis oan the phone. Tattie could tell it wis 'ur Murr oan ri urr en' an' signal't 'e waanted a word wi 'ur.
“Haw Maw. How ye getting' oan? Listen, if a buy the wool wull ye knit me anurr cardy? 'Is yin's aboot done in. Ye wull? Brand new. Wull wi see ye et ri kickba' oan Seturday? Aye, a kin drive ye hame bit ye kin stye fur yur dinner tae. Right, ah'll pit ma burd back oan, sees ye laters.”
“Ma Daddy says yur Swedish,” says J.J. tae Kjerstin. “D'ye ken Henrik Larsson?”
“He is footballer, yes?”
“Aye,” says Bonnie, “played furra Cellic an' oor Owen taen us tae see 'um a coupla times. 'Es pure dead brilliant so 'e is. In't 'e J.J.?”
“What means J.J.? Asked Kjerstin, copin' admirably wi' ri dialect. “Is it proper real name?”
“Shoart fur Janis Joplin,” advised Bonnie helpfully, “an' ma full name is Bonnie Raitt Zkowen. A waant tae play guitar lit hur whin a grow up.”
“When you leave school yes?”
“Whin a'm feenished playin' kickba'. Ma Daddy says a'm guid enuff tae play fur Scoatland.”
“An' a waant tae kin sing lit Janis dis, urr mibbe even better'n hur, mibbe,” says J.J.
“Yes, after you finish to play kick....kick.....kickba' yes?”
“Naw, efter a'm feenished wi' coachin' Scoatland.”
“You will be coach...trainer yes?”
“Aye. Bit jeest so's a kin boss ma big sistur aboot fur a wee chinge.”
The weans kicked oaf laughin' et rat an' ri wee dug jined in wi' ri barkin'. 'E likes a guid laugh rat wee dug so e' dis.
“Right yous two,” says Tina, “skill the morra sa get up tae yer kips.”
“Aw Maw,” says ri pair e' rum ri gither, “jeest anurr hauf an 'oor.”
“D'yis waant fur me tae tell yis?” says Tattie. “D'yis waant fur us tae set rat wee dug oan yis?”
“Aw right Daddy, wur gaun,” says Bonnie, “bit kin Kjerstin tuck us in?”
“I can do this,” says Kjerstin. “I am Nanny before I am in Scoatland, yes?”
“Lovely lassie rat,” says Tattie whin Kjerstin shooed ri weans up ri stairs, “faur too guid fur you oor Owen.”
“A like how she jeest fittit in wi' ri weans,” says Owen, ignorin' the slight, “it's early days yit bit a'm 'hinkin' a' learnin' Swedish so am ur.”
“If ye bring 'ur tae ri kickba' oan Seturday ah'll mibbes stert bulevin' ye,” says Tina, “bit Tattie's right enough, she's a lovely lassie so she is.”
Ri weans gote thur extra hauf 'oor oot a' Kjerstin, battin' questions back 'n' furrit atween rum. Ri pare lassie wis dizzy whin she came doon ri stairs bit she wis grinnin' a mile wide.
“Beautiful girls, Tina,” she says, “and so nice manners....mannered, yes?”
“Ye 'hink sa hen?” says Tina. “Here Tattie, whair'r you gaun?”
“Up tae see if she pit the right two tae bed. Disnae sound lit ma weans rat so it disnae.”
Evrub'dy laughed, an' ri wee dug barked ri bit doon.
It gote tae hauf aleevin an' Owen an' Kjerstin wis fur offski. They wantit tae catch last oardurs et Blooters.
“Wi fur a wee swally afore kick-aff oan Seturday?” Says Owen.
“Yis ur nut,” says Tina, “thon pare wummin' referee husnae recover't fae ri last tum.”
“A wis jeest kiddin' oor Tina doll. Am a chinged man a tel't ye. See yis soon, cheery bye.”
“You kin come back ony tum ye like Kjerstin doll,” says Tattie, “an' if ye need tae bring him wi' ye a s'pose it'll be awright.”
“Thank you Tattie......I think.”
“Here. Me an' ri wee dug'll walk yis doon tae ri park. Tina doll, kin ye mind whit ye done wi' rem shite bags we hud left ower fae Garrincha?”
“Huv a luk unner the sink, mibbe right et ri back. Ah'll awa' up an' check oan ri weans. Awfy nice tae meet ye Kjerstin doll.”
Thur wis a wee tear in 'ur eye; mibbes wi' ri mention a' Garrincha.
Ri wee dug fell in et Tattie's heel lik it wis second nature tae 'um. 'E let Kjerstin make a fuss e' 'um an' stood wi' Tattie is her an' Owen stroll't intae ri dorkness e' ri park.
Tattie pit ri kettle oan an' Tina came back doon ri stairs in 'ur dressin' goon. Ri kettle bile't awa' an' Tattie stared oot ri windae intae ri dorkness.
“Whit ur ye 'hinkin'? Says Tina. “Yur loast in space thair.”
“A'm 'hinkin',” says Tattie, “if a hud anurr day aff the morra wid it be onywhair near is guid is ris yin's been?”
“Yir a lovely man Tattie Zkowen. Did a ever tell ye that?” Says Tina, foldin' ri two hunner wrappers intae 'ur purse. “A lovely, lovely man so ye ur.”
“Tell me again Tina doll. Git yer erse up rey stairs an' tell me again,” says Tattie, an', turnin' tae ri wee dug, “a'm leein' you in charge Jinky, 'hink ye kin manage rat son?”
Ri wee dug wagged 'es wee tail an' geid Tattie a luk thit says, “Coont oan it Tattie man, nae borr.”
About the Author
Angus Shoor Caan is in an ex-seaman and rail worker. Born and bred in Saltcoats, he returned to Scotland after many years in England and found the time to begin writing. He has written a poetry collection and several novels, two of which, The Reader and Violet Hiccup have been published by Black Leaf Publishing.