A cough from the back of an apparently empty bus led to a rather unexpected discovery. What followed involved a slavering dug, a 999 call, a passenger who'd been completely sparkled out, and the most bizarre missed-stop excuse I've ever encountered.
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| I blamed the dug for the mysterious coughing from the back of the bus. Turns out the poor thing was innocent, its owner was sparkled out on the back seats. |
There are days driving a bus when you genuinely wonder if you've somehow wandered onto the set of a comedy programme without anyone telling you.
This was one of those days.
I'd had a busy run, the sort where you've barely had time to scratch yourself, never mind contemplate the meaning of life, and things had finally quietened down.
The bus was empty.
Or so I thought.
A quick glance in the interior mirror.
Nothing.
Another look.
Still nothing.
A check upstairs on the CCTV.
Not a soul.
Brilliant.
Just me and the bus.
Then I heard it.
Cough.
I looked in the mirror.
Nothing.
I carried on.
A few seconds later:
Cough... splutter... wheeze.
Now, that's interesting.
Another look in the mirror.
Still absolutely nobody.
I'd obviously either developed a ghost problem or somebody had discovered a new and remarkably effective way of hiding on a double-decker.
Then I caught something moving down near the front door.
A dog.
And not one of those sleek, handsome wee things that looks like it has its own Instagram account and eats organic chicken.
No.
This was a dog that looked as though nature had started making a normal dog, got halfway through the design process, had a wee think, and then said:
“Fuck it. Keep going.”
Its face was a magnificent collection of wrinkles, folds and miscellaneous bits of skin.
The eyes were enormous.
The legs were suspiciously short.
And the mouth...
Jesus Christ.
The mouth was a biological event.
There was enough slavering hanging from its chops to suggest it had either just seen a sausage or was preparing to drain the bus.
It was snorting.
Grunting.
Huffing.
Puffing.
And generally breathing like an asthmatic accordian being played by somebody with anger issues.
Then it coughed.
“There you are.”
Mystery solved.
It was the dug.
I actually thought, that's where the noise is coming from.
And, to be fair, if you'd heard this thing breathing, you'd have reached exactly the same conclusion.
So I carried on.
The dog sat there quite happily, looking like it had absolutely no intention of explaining itself to anybody.
The noises stopped.
The bus went quiet.
And then that little driver's instinct kicked in.
Something wasn't right.
So I stopped.
I secured the bus and went for a look.
And that's when the whole thing changed.
At the back of the bus was the dog's owner.
Slumped across a seat.
Out cold.
Barely breathing.
Shallow breaths.
No response.
I spoke to them.
Nothing.
Again.
Nothing.
Louder.
Still nothing.
At this point I was shouting loudly enough to wake anybody who had even the remotest intention of remaining asleep.
Nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
And then I noticed the mouth.
It was covered in hives.
Not just a couple of wee spots either.
The sort of reaction that immediately makes your brain start joining dots you really don't want joined.
And one thought flashed through my head:
“If I need to resuscitate this person, how exactly is that going to work?”
Because I'm perfectly prepared to do what is necessary in an emergency.
But when somebody's mouth is looking like they've been personally attacked by an angry swarm of bees, you do have a moment where the brain says:
“This could get complicated.”
There was no time to stand around pondering the finer points of emergency medicine.
Get the emergency services moving.
I'm on the phone explaining what I've found, keeping an eye on the passenger and trying to work out what the hell has happened.
And then...
The passenger wakes up.
Just like that.
No dramatic gasp.
No Hollywood resurrection.
No “Where am I?”
No existential crisis.
They simply come round.
Look around.
And, apparently, the first major problem to present itself is...
They've missed their stop.
You couldn't write it.
I've gone from thinking I'm about to have a genuine medical emergency on the back of the bus to discovering that the actual emergency, as far as the passenger was concerned, was a missed bus stop.
They gather themselves.
Grab the dog's lead.
Apologise.
And prepare to leave.
At this point, I'm still trying to process the fact that someone who, moments earlier, had been barely breathing and completely unresponsive is now casually preparing to continue their journey.
And then I properly see the two of them together.
The dog.
The owner.
And suddenly...
It all makes sense.
You know how people say dogs start to look like their owners?
Well...
Whoever came up with that theory had clearly met these two.
It was uncanny.
The same slightly battered facial appearance.
The same expression suggesting neither was entirely sure what was going on.
The same general impression that breathing was more of a negotiated arrangement than a biological function.
Only the dog had wrinkles all over its face.
The owner had hives all round the mouth.
And suddenly I realised I'd spent the first half of the incident blaming the wrong one for the noises.
The dug hadn't been ill.
The dug had simply abandoned ship.
Its owner was sparkled out at the back and the dug had apparently decided:
“Right. You're no use to me. I'm going for a look about.”
And away it had wandered.
Still attached to the lead.
Owner at one end.
Dug at the other.
Except the owner was lying unconscious about three quarters of the way down the bus while the dug had reached the front and was sitting there making noises like an old tractor starting on a frosty morning.
It was a complete shambles.
And somehow, the most remarkable part was still to come.
The passenger walked off.
No ambulance.
No fuss.
No drama.
Just an apology, the dog lead in hand, and away they went.
I'm standing there thinking:
“Have I just imagined the last ten minutes?”
The 999 operator is still on the phone.
There's a pause.
Then:
“Is an ambulance still required?”
I look out the front window.
The passenger is walking away.
The dog is trotting alongside.
Both disappearing into the distance with absolutely no indication that anything remotely unusual has happened.
I looked back at the empty bus.
Then back out the window.
“No.”
And that was that.
Ambulance cancelled.
Passenger gone.
Dug gone.
Me left standing there with the sort of expression usually seen on somebody who's just been told they've won the lottery but has forgotten to buy a ticket.
And the dug?
Completely innocent.
It had spent the whole time taking the blame for the coughing and spluttering when, in reality, its owner was lying unconscious at the back.
Although, having now seen them together, I'm not entirely convinced the dog hadn't simply looked at the situation, assessed the circumstances and decided it was safer to be at the other end of the bus.
Smart dug.
They say you shouldn't judge a book by its cover.
I'm saying nothing about dogs and their owners.
I'll just say this:
I've never before had to call 999 because I thought a passenger might be seriously ill, only for them to wake up, realise they'd missed their stop, apologise, grab their dog and walk off as if they'd merely fallen asleep on the sofa.
And I've certainly never had a dog provide the most convincing false lead in a medical emergency I've ever encountered.
The whole episode left me with one burning question.
Not what happened?
Not why did they collapse?
Not even why were they covered in hives?
No.
My question was much simpler.
How bloody far had that dug planned to walk before somebody noticed it had left its owner behind?
Because judging by the look on its face...
I think it had already decided the next stop was somewhere considerably safer.
___
Meta description: A mystery cough, a slavering dug, a 999 call and a passenger who woke up to discover they'd simply missed their stop.
Keyword set: bus driver story, funny bus driver stories, passenger emergency, bus driver 999 call, unconscious passenger, bus driver life, Scottish humour, bus passenger stories, funny passenger stories, public transport stories, bus driver experience, bizarre bus stories, bus driver humour, unexpected passenger, dog on bus
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