Ruff guide to driving

Kids today . Shesh, can’t take ’em anywhere eh?

It was a normal day in Abingdon, Scotland and Farmer Tom Hamilton was tending to his flock of sheep with his trusty faithful sheepdog, Don.

However, Don was no ordinary sheepdog. Farmer Hamilton knew that Don had Lassie like powers of perception.

As Farmer Hamilton was driving around their hills in their John Deere Gator farm vehicle, Don sat in the passenger seat eagerly looking out for adventure.

“Woof Woof Woof” barked Don suddenly.

Farmer Hamilton then spotted his favorite sheep, Flossy. “I see her Don, she doesn’t look her normal happy self. Just listen to her. Her ‘Baa’s’ are more like ‘Bhaaaa’ “. I wonder what could be up?”.

Don responded “Woof.  Woof. Woof”

“Ach lad. I think one of her kin might have fallen down a well” agreed Farmer Hamilton.

“Woof woof woof” barked Don again.

Farmer Hamilton looked surprised. “Ay your right, you’re such a clever dog. She could also have been kidnapped by a villainous criminal gang of Sassinach sheep rustlers.”

The vehicle came to a halt. “Stay here Don while I see what is up” said Farmer Hamilton as he jumped down to speak with Flossy. “Bhaaaa” said Flossy.

Meanwhile Farmer Hamilton’s Tom cat, Sporen, appeared out of a hedge. Little did Farmer Hamilton know but Don disliked that cat ever since he eaten that Fish super, when Farmer Hamilton has passed out from drinking too much. Don as usual, got the blame. And how could he forget the time Sporen has urinated over his favorite squeaky toy rendering it unchewable.

Yes, Don hated that cat and didn’t trust him one bit. He was obviously up to something.

Without warning the Farm vehicle lunged forward with Don now at the wheel. “WOOF WOOF WOOFING CAT” barked Don. He was heading straight in the direction of Sporen.

“DON !!!” screamed Farmer Hamilton. ” Don’t worry, try to steer it away from Sporen. SPOREN, get out of the way” he yelled but the vehicle sped to towards his cat.

Just in time, Sporen jumped out of the way and the vehicle carried on, now picking up more speed as it went down the hill. “WOOF WOOF WOOF” howled Don.

“I can’nae hear you” said Farmer Hamilton and watched in horror as the farm vehicle plowed through his wooden fence and down the embankment onto the M72 where it hit the central reservation and came to a halt with a slight smoke coming out of the engine.

“DON ARE YOU OK?” wailed Farmer Hamilton as he ran towards the wreckage.

As he got there, there was a silence.  “Oh Don, speak to me ? I will give anything to hear your voice. I’ll even give you some of my homemade Haggis.”

“Woof woof woof” came the sheepish response.

“Oh DON”, you are alive !

After what seemed like a few minutes, a police car arrived and out stepped the local village Bobby, PC Hamish McStereotype. “So What happened here Hamilton? It is a bit early for the sheepdog trials isn’t it?.” where PC McStereotype burst out laughing uncontrollably at his own joke.

Farmer Hamilton relayed the story about how he had stepped off the vehicle without putting the brake on and Don had accidentally hit to controls to put it into motion.  At least that’s the version he told the press.

PC Hamish laughed even louder. “Wait till my colleagues hear about this”. He said as he opened up his phone – an iphone 3S which is the latest down the village station – and typed something in. It was one of those new fangled ‘tweets’.

Police warn of delays to do Dog induced accident

“Ha Ha” guffawed PC McStereotype. “I’ve just sent out a tweet that told the world ‘may cause TAIL backs’. Tail backs – geddit?. Normally I would ask to see documents but in this case which one do I ask for – a drivers or a DOG licence ? Bwahhh….. If you don’t have it, then I could COLLAR him as in arrest.” PC McStereotype was laughing so hard he was doubled over.

“You know If I did take it to the CPS, they’d say I was BARKING MAD and tell me that the case has no LEADS”. PC McStereotype went on but Farmer Hamilton was no longer listening. He head something about ‘having no bones to pick with Don’ and that ‘being a sheepdog, it was a case of baaaad luck’. Eventually PC McSterotype told them they could go but “Only Farmer Hamilton was to drive”.

As Farmer Hamilton drove the farm vehicle back up the embankment to his property, Don sniffed his crotch and yelped  “WOOF WOOF WOOF”.

“Ay yer rite Don, Feck the police !!” said Farmer Hamiliton as they scooted off over the hill to face any jape. Things were never quiet in Abingdon. Especially with Don getting a taste for being at the wheel.

THE END.

Hadrian