• a dog who drives
  • a dog who drives
  • a dog who drives

    a dog who drives

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    Heavyweight (8.5 oz/yd² | 288.2 g/m²) hoodie with direct-to-garment print. Made in WRAP-certified facilities.
    There was a short sausage dog with little stumpy legs and it would waddle around.  At the bar where he lives he would weave between peoples feet like a ribbon…

    There was a short sausage dog with little stumpy legs and it would waddle around.  At the bar where he lives he would weave between peoples feet like a ribbon looking for crumbs and scraps of food that had fallen from the tables.  People loved that little dog, when the owner of the bar noticed everyone petting the little dog and getting a little enjoyment from him being there he asked a local tailor to make a tiny suit for him.


    Now the sausage dog has a suit.  He still runs around peoples feet and dashes between tables but now he has a two piece suit on and looks quite the gentleman. 


    At the end of the day, when the bell rings and everyone has to finish their drinks, they all take their hats off and wave to the little dog in his sharp suit as they exit the bar. He watches them leave one at a time wagging his tail gleefully.  What a proud little dog he is.


    One time a drunken red faced man thought it would be funny to pull on the dog's ear and the dog barked and bit the man on his thumb and everyone laughed and slapped their bellies as the stout little dog chased the man right out the door, nipping at his heels as he left.  Everyone knew who the real landlord was, it was the little dog.


    And as the red faced man fled in disgrace he  tripped on his shoelaces in the street and fell head forward into the local lamp post where he slumped, like a bag of oats.  His entire body just melted down the pole and it left a thick red stain where his head had connected and when the pavement met his teeth it made the most awful sound.  The dog still barking and wagging its tail, having a jolly old time, ran in circles around the scene as the men from the bar watched on silently, eyes gaping at the lump on the floor that used to be a man, now just a crumpled old meat sack in a baggy suit and disheveled hair.  What a dapper looking dog he was, in his perfect suit, lord of his tiny little pub.


    He would walk himself to the butchers down the road and get himself some sausages on occasions and children would chase him down the cobblestones as he ran at full speed in his little suit, a string of sausages in his mouth but they could never catch him.  People would wave as he went by like they knew him and he would waddle the streets of old york town with pride knowing it was his home and everybody loved him.


    One day the mayor came to visit the bar he worked at to commemorate the little chap.  The Mayor said 'I've had never met a more majestic and honorable dog' and a man from the newspapers came to report on what was happening, snapping photos of the mayor and this silly little sausage dog in a suit getting along like old friends.  The mayor and the dog shared a pint and after a few of more pints the mayor pretended the dog could play the piano and helped him mash his paws onto the keys so he could play a jolly old song.  The crowd laughed, everyone loved this tiny dog and his tiny perfect suit and his piano playing ways.


    An American came to town once and took a fancy to the young pup.  He was an engineer and said (in an American accent, of course) "This here dawg is great.  We don't have dogs with suits back home.  What this little fella needs is a tiny car to drive around in, he can store his sausages in the trunk!"  The entire bar raised their glasses at the idea.  An old fellow with a mustache took off his hat and started going around, asking for donations towards the tiny car.  People reached deep into their pockets and pulled out their last shillings to give towards the project and after twenty minutes the hat sagged heavy with shillings, pound coins and pennies.


    "I think that'll be enough for a fine automobile" Said the yank, and everyone cheered.


    A week later he came back with the car, it was a 4 liter combustion engine automobile with a large trunk, enough for at least 3 sausages.  The dog got into the car and he was so smart in his little suit, he knew exactly what he was doing.  He didn't even need a driving lesson.  He began careering around town howling out of the window at passers by.  He even went to the fancy butchers on the other side of town for some special sausages to take home.  And when he came back, he would park his tiny car out front of the bar and waddle in, carrying his sausages and curling up by the fire to sleep all cosey.


    Everyday he would drive around town in his little car, smelling the fresh air and letting his ear's flap in the wind.  And every day the radio would play the same eerie tune, no matter how many times his little paws attempted to change the channel, the same lulling tones of a haunting song would play through the little speakers in his tiny car.  This song troubled the little sausage dog and he would angrily park in front of the pub late at night, contemplating the sounds he had heard and how they made him feel.


    One rainy evening, when everyone was slumped over their cups and the little dog was wagging around keeping everyone entertained, a rustic gravely man with a Scottish accent smiled at the little pup and said to the barmaid with a teary eye... "Ohh what a wee little boy.  I had my own wee one once.  but the bridge came a callin and that was that...." he said, slumped on the bar like melting toffee.  And he began to whistle a strange tune which perked the little dogs ears up...it sounded frightfully like the sound from the radio in his car...


    And to the little car the dog took!  It wasn't a dream it was real, it was out there and he must go to it.  The sound of the old man whistling  flowed into the sound of the radio as the little dog got in his tiny car and raced away.  Barking as he drove by the  fishmongers and the  tanners, onwards with a passion and knowing that this tune was calling to him as he wove through the pebble dashed streets north in his little car trying to make sense of it all a final answer


    And as he drove closer to Scotland closer to Overtoun bridge, the tune he was hearing through his little radio became louder and louder to the point where it overtook every aspect of his reality.  He didn't even realize he was driving on roads as he got closer to it, his whole reality was focused on this beautiful but sad melody playing from the bridge he had to enter. that everything in his entire life has led him to this place and this is where he must go, this haunting vibration emanating from this one spot that he must just



    and then he drove his little car over the edge and it smashed into the green black water below with a little plunk.



    and there he lays with the other dogs....


    And if you are to go to  Overtoun bridge, throw a penny into the water for me, for him.