Dog Days is a serial about the plight of a dog walker, Richie Pen, and Kenny, his dog.
about every fourth person you meet in the park is tapped. Puddled, you call it. Either way, it is inappropriately large dioramas of cartoon characters tattooed on your calf. And/or it is jogging round the park in army boots the day you give up smoking, going, I'm turning myself around! Whatever, as they say, gets you through the night – or in this case, the park. Really, the place wouldn't be the same without the puddledness, and neither would the people who carry these little oddities around with them. Like water balloons up your jumper.
Imagine a little boy walking around on a hot day without water balloons up his jumper. He would be too hot! And not mischievous at all. What a miserable park.
The woman with the Pooh Bear tattoo said to me she just woke up one day and decided she couldn't get up unless she had a Pooh Bear. Somehow she must have had one delivered, and now her house and skin is totally stuffed with Pooh Bear paraphernalia. So there you go. She says, It's a good job I haven't got any children! Which I think is kind of missing the point. At least her little dog doesn't chew them though. Our flat would be covered in stuffing and yellow fabric by now, with a little Len cocking his head in the middle, going 'Huh. What about that?'
It's all right for us really isn't it Bob! We might not be able to afford a wardrobe that closes, but we wake up each morning and go, I can't get out of bed unless I have a cwtch. Then we just roll over and get one. It's not hard, and although I often kid you about getting a tattoo of mine and Ken's face on your back, I wouldn't dream of psychologically bullying you into it in the way that Christopher Robin et al has with the the woman in the park.
If you did want to get one, can I be winking? I think that would look great!
Richie Pen, and Lonnie Kenagain