Dog gone

STRANGE goings on at Glasgow arts charity the Clutha Trust, where the local police-dog team requested the use of the organisation’s multi-floored premises to practise their search techniques. The idea was to ensure that the intrepid PC pooches maintained their ability to find anything. The opposite proved to be the case, however, when something very important was lost… one of the dogs.

The last we heard, the hound still hadn’t been found. We humbly suggest that dangling an open tin of Chum from a fishing rod might attract the errant Fido back to his policing duties.

Heavy-duty experts

EAGLE-EYED Charlie Neill from Dumbreck noticed that a recent Herald story about increased waistlines quoted an expert by the name of Dr Fat. The article didn’t mention his colleagues, though if it had, we’re sure they would have been called Dr Plump, Dr Chubster and Dr Honestly-I’m-Just-Big-Boned. (The latter medic sporting one of those very rare quadruple barrelled surnames.)

Uncommon denominator

“THERE’S a fine line between a numerator and a denominator,” says reader Martha Miller, who adds rather snootily: “Only a fraction of you will understand that.”

Killer entertainment

BOARDGAME badinage continued. Reader Pete Arnold says his grandfather refused to play Cluedo, grumbling that it encouraged violence. “Grandad was a keen amateur boxer in his youth,” adds Pete. “I guess he thought hitting people on the head was fine, as long as you didn’t use a tiny plastic candlestick.”

Boozy bairns’ book

WE’VE been suggesting children’s books for actress and occasional kids author Elaine C Smith to translate into Scots. Eric Arbuckle from Largs suggests The Pie-Eyed Piper of Hamilton.

Choc drop

OUR admission that we have a soft spot for jokes of the dafter variety inspires Bill Lindsay from Erskine to tell us a gag which might amuse sweet-toothed older readers: “If a peanut gets stuck in your throat, how do you dislodge it?” he asks. The answer is, of course: “Eat some milk chocolate. It will go down a Treet.”

Cheeky shoppers

FOLLOWING a recent story about German sausage and cheese, Bob Jamieson points out that our Teutonic pals are notorious for having a word for everything. A friend of Bob’s, who lives in Berlin, told him they even have a word for panic buying. Hamsterkauf means to shop as though you were over-stuffing your cheeks with food, like hamsters are apt to do.

We feel obliged to point out that you’ll rarely see a hamster at a supermarket checkout. The lazy devils always buy online.

Jaw guffaw

WE conclude with a madcap mouthy gag from Arthur Moore, who asks: “What do you call a boat carrying dentists?” It’s a tooth ferry, of course.

Read more: See you, Jimmy and the Giant Peach