Did the OED accept Wordhunt evidence of the dog's ballocks?
In addition to the 1986 antedating of dog's bollocks wordhunters also came forward with anecdotal evidence that the term was used by printers many years earlier to refer to a certain set of punctuation. They also found written evidence of this usage in a slang dictionary by Eric Partridge. But was it enough to convince the OED?
John Simpson, OED Chief Editor: Yes, this is certainly something we should add. The Wordhunters' 1951 example comes from a different context (printing) and means something completely different, that is, the the typographical colon-dash (:--). But perhaps the earlier use influenced the latter? We need to include it, anyway.
Why were the OED so delighted with the Wordhunt findings on mucky pup?
The term mucky pup was one of the greatest triumphs of the Wordhunt so far, with Wordhunters providing evidence to beat the OED by a massive 50 years! It was also a search that provided some unconventional evidence, including a punk song and a school exercise book (which didn’t feature in the programme, but which you can see above and which is also going into the Dictionary). OED Chief Editor John Simpson congratulates Wordhunters on a job well done:
John Simpson: We included the expression mucky pup on the Wordhunt because we felt that it had really been around far longer than our evidence suggested. And sure enough we were right! Most of us could remember the phrase from our childhood (or at least before 1984, which was the earliest reference the OED had been able to turn up). But being good lexicographers, we couldn't trust our own memories enough to assert earlier currency without documentary evidence. The punk song from 1977 was good (and I wonder how we missed it!), and the teacher’s comment in school exercise book of 1954 felt that we were getting back towards the right era. But the printed lyrics of Harry Hemsley’s song of 1934 capped the series for us: real evidence from earlier than we’d dared to hope. I took the sheet music back to the office and tapped it into the database straightaway!
What was the original shaggy dog story?
As promised in the programme, here is the original shaggy dog story, adapted from a piece called ‘Don’t Laugh Now’ by J C Furnas first published in Esquire in May 1937. A very similar story can be found in other slightly later accounts turned up by Wordhunters. The OED define a shaggy dog story as “a lengthy tediously detailed story of an inconsequential series of events, more amusing to the teller than to his audience, or amusing only by its pointlessness”. So don’t say you haven’t been warned…
Once upon a time there was an Englishman who lost his dog while holidaying in New York. In a distressed state he placed the following advert in a local newspaper.
“Big, white, shaggy dog lost. Reward of £500 offered to anyone who safeguards its return to London”
At this time there was a man living in New York. His name is not recorded for posterity, but let us call him Percy. Why not? Percy’s a nice name. I once played cards with a fine fellow called Percy. Anyway, Percy saw the advert in the newspaper and believed it to be his lucky day. No, not my friend Percy. The one in the story. The one in New York. You see, just that morning while playing craps in some drinking hole or other he had lost a sum of money amounting to a small fortune. In those days one could buy a horse and cart for $3 and a house for $100, and so when I say a small fortune I am talking about a figure equivalent to that of the reward. You see back then £500 was worth nearly $2500. It was the era of fixed exchange rates, and the pound was really worth a pound in those days. Not like today. To Percy, £500 was a dream come true, the proverbial pot at the end of the rainbow. He temporarily forgot his woes and began to sniff out the dog. New York wasn’t as big then as it is today and so he felt sure that he would stumble across it sooner or later.
Ten minutes later, while whistling a dog-luring tune, guess who walked round the corner? What was the tune, I hear you ask? Well, I always whistle hymns when I summon my dog. But I have no idea whether Percy was partial to a nice hymn. Did you guess who came around the corner? A dog. And not just any dog. This dog was having what is colloquially known as a bad hair day. It had knots and split ends and all manner of detritus mangled up in its shaggy coat. It was big and white.
Percy, although of course that isn’t his real name, scooped the smelly dog up and skipped and jumped off to the harbour.
“I’d like to go to London” said Percy.
“London, England?” said the ticket master.
“Yes” said Percy.
Percy bought a one way ticket and spent some time daydreaming about where he might go after collecting his reward. The world was his oyster! Percy didn’t much like oysters and had often wondered why they were such a delicacy, but a phrase is a phrase and he couldn’t think of an alternative expression to use, as most foodstuffs don’t contain precious stones. He couldn’t very well say the world was his corned beef.
Percy got into his cabin. It was a two berth, cabin number 53. Percy was nearly 53 years old and felt it quite spooky that such a coincidence could occur. He hadn’t bought a ticket for the dirty dog so asked him to lie down and pretend to be a dirty rug.
The two travelling companions fell into a deep sleep. Having not brought his watch Percy could not be sure how long they had been at sea, when something large rammed into the side of the boat. Man and dog awoke and went on deck to see what all the kerfuffle was about.
A whale, the size of which had not been seen since biblical times, had knocked into the boat and was merrily flapping its tail about, tossing passengers sky high. ‘Oh dear’, thought the dog. Well at least that is what he appeared to be thinking. But it’s often hard to make out what goes on inside the head of an beast.
The general feeling was that things couldn’t get any worse…but they were just about to. The perils of life at sea are multiple but having already experienced a big fish attack the probability of facing any more strife was practically nothing. I’m not a mathematician, neither was Percy, he was just a chancer with a dog, but I would say the probability of further mishaps were 0.0000012 recurring, give or take zero or two. Yes, if you are an observant reader you will know that a whale is a mammal and not a big fish. But Percy really wasn’t in the mood for the details of biological classifications.
A dark cloud descended on the boat and it started to rain cats and dogs (and not just shaggy ones). Then came the thunder, and shortly after that the lightening. Percy and several others decided to abandon ship, hoping that they might soon be rescued. Sure enough, after only a few days battling with the elements in a small lifeboat they were picked up by the coast-guards and taken to land. After a slap-up feast (now there’s a funny phrase – after all, a slap is normally nasty not nice), Percy and dog said their goodbyes to their shipmates and boarded a steam-train to London, England.
Several misadventures later, man and dog arrived outside the house of the dogless man. How they managed to find the correct house - for there was no address in the advertisment - is a story for which we sadly have no time.
At any rate, Percy walked up to the front door and - in the absence of a bell - knocked with his left fist three times. Have you ever wondered why so many door bells in stories don’t work? Bang bang bang! He waited for several seconds and then tried again, this time with his right fist. Bang bang bang! A tall man opened the door and looked down at the two dishevelled travellers.
“Good day sir, can I help you?” he said.
”You advertised about a lost dog, a shaggy dog”, said Percy, and he pushed the big, now rather grey shaggy dog into the Englishman’s hallway, sticking his hand out in expectation of his reward.
The Englishman took one look at the dog and coldly said, “my dog is shaggy, Sir, but not so damn shaggy as that.”