Original subtitles

I'm sorry, Dennis.

Lost dog or no lost dog, Tiny's not for us.

- Dear, we just don't have room for a dog that big.

- Well, we just can't throw poor old Tiny out on the street.

- Like a dog.

- I'd take him, Mr. Mitchell, but my pop

hates relatives and dogs.

- Well, I guess we'd better get this overgrown

friend of yours down to the animal shelter

and let them find his real owner.

- It's too late.

The dog pound closes at 5 o'clock.

- I believe he's right, dear.

- Well then I guess Tiny'll just have to sleep in the basement

tonight.

- Oh, boy!

Did you hear that Tiny?

Did you hear that, guys?

- Yeah!

Tiny's gonna sleep downstairs.

- Hold it, hold it.

First thing in the morning, we're

taking tiny to the animal shelter.

I mean it.

Do I make myself clear?

- Sure, Dad.

Come on Tiny.

Come on fellas.

[bark]

- At least our son's improving in his choice of new friends.

Last time he brought home a goat.

[music]

- Oh no.

Help!

Ah!

Stop it. - Tiny!

Tiny!

Hi, Mr. Wilson.

Tiny won't bite you.

He's just being friendly.

- Get this beast off me.

- OK. Come on, Tiny.

- What's all the commotion about?

- Hi, Mrs. Wilson.

We were just introducing Mr. Wilson to a new dog.

- Well, hello there.

My, what a nice dog.

- See, Mr. Wilson?

Tiny just wants to be friendly.

- Maybe he does, but I don't.

- You're a mean man.

- Now don't mind Mr. Wilson, children.

He's just a little afraid of dogs.

- Don't you like dogs, Mr. Wilson?

- Only when they're smaller than I am.

Now children, if you don't mind now.

- Mr. Wilson? - Mm-hmm?

- Poor Tiny there's a dog without an owner.

- What did he do?

Swallow his last one?

- If we don't find him a home by tomorrow morning,

he'll have to go to the dog pound.

- He'd made a swell watch dog, Mr. Wilson.

And he could do other things too,

like bring you your slippers.

- And get your morning paper.

- And bite you when your mean.

- Um, boys, I'm perfectly capable of getting

my own slippers and my own newspapers.

- In your mouth?

- Wagging your tail at the same time?

- All right, all right.

Goodbye.

All four of you.

Out.

- OK.

Come on, Tiny.

Tiny!

- He's got my South American stamp!

- Tiny, give it back!

- Quick, somebody.

Grab that mutt's tongue before he swallows my stamp.

- Tiny, give it to me.

There you are, Mr. Wilson.

All licked and ready to be pasted in your album.

- Now-- now take that mangy beast and depart.

- If you change your mind about keeping Tiny, Mr. Wilson--

- I'll call a psychiatrist and have my head examined.

Goodbye.

- Come on, Tiny.

[barking]

- Henry, the dog's barking again.

- Alice, I'm well aware that the dog is barking again.

- Don't you think you ought to bring him

upstairs out of the basement? - Why?

You think he'd be happier barking up here?

[barking] - Eloise.

Eloise!

Did you hear that?

- John Wilson, did you wake me up just to listen to a dog bark?

- Well, I can't sleep.

- Oh, fine.

John.

As your wife, I will darn your socks, cook your meals,

caught your colds, but I will not stay awake with you

in the middle of the night listening to a dog bark

just because you can't sleep.

- I'm going to do something about that dog right now.

- Well, what are you planning to do, dear?

Go next door and offer yourself as a human sacrifice?

[phone rings and dog barks]

- Hello?

Oh, hello John.

Yes, I also can hear a dog barking.

My dog?

Well, he's in my basement, but I'd

hardly classify his as my dog.

He's merely an overnight guest.

Well, exactly what you suggest I do with him, John?

- Oh, I don't know.

Why don't you go downstairs and tell him

some shaggy dog stories?

- You lie down here.

- What are you doing, dear?

- You wanted him upstairs, so he's upstairs.

And you stay there and be quiet.

Now to get some sleep.

[bark]

- He's not accustom to sleeping alone, dear.

- Well, I am.

[bark]

- Well honey, you can't blame the dog

for wanting to sleep on his master's bed.

- I'm glad you find this amusing, Alice.

- I'm sorry dear, but it is funny.

[bark]

- Do you mind?

- Where are you going, dear?

- I'm going down to the sofa and get some sleep.

- I hope you're comfortable.

Good night, Tiny.

[barking]

- Give me that paper, you thief.

[growling]

- Eat your breakfast, dear.

[barking]

- Oh my goodness!

[growling]

- Eloise!

All-- all right.

You can keep the paper.

Just give me the sports section?

[barking] Eloise! Eloise!

- Eloise, just look at this paper.

- Oh, he'll improve, dear.

After all, it's the first morning

the dog's delivered the paper.

- Oh, very funny.

Henry hadn't promised to get rid of that bloodthirsty creature

this morning, I'd-- Eloise, in the personal column.

Lost, large, shaggy dog, answers to the name of Clyde.

$100 reward for information and recovery.

Eloise, Tiny must be this dog Clyde.

And that's my little surprise folks.

I just decided that I really need a dog.

- Oh boy!

Did you hear that, Tiny?

Mr. Wilson's wants you after all!

- I don't get it, John.

Just a few minutes ago, you--

- I know, Henry.

I must confess that I haven't been

too friendly to the dog, but--

- You mean Tiny would never have to go to the dog pound?

- Dennis, I give you my word.

That dog will never be taken to the pound by me.

- Well John, supposing his real owner's looking for him.

- Oh, well, then I'd advertise in the newspapers of course,

just in case.

- OK, he's all yours. Ride him in good health.

- Yes, Mrs. Morton, we'll be expected you.

Goodbye.

Eloise, she just lives three blocks from here.

She's jumping in her car and coming right over.

- John Wilson, do you mean to tell me

you took that dog without telling the Mitchells

about the advertisement or the reward?

- Now Eloise, if ever an individual deserved the reward,

I do.

I've been growled at, barked at, my night sleep has been ruined,

I've had my morning paper shredded,

and last but not least, that fuzzy creature

drove me up a tree in my own front yard.

- John Wilson, you're just after that $100.

Now why don't you admit it?

John!

Isn't that your shoe he's chewing on?

- Clyde?

Stop that.

- Well, aren't you going to stop him, dear?

- Of course, I'm going to stop him.

Clyde, stop that.

[bark]

- Well, it's, uh, an old shoe anyway.

- Yes, it is aging rather rapidly.

[door bell]

- There she is.

Oh, Mrs. Morton.

Come in, come in.

- Well, Mr. Wilson, where is my Clyde?

- Right there.

Go right in.

- How do you do?

- How do?

- Looks who's here to see you, Clyde.

- That's not Clyde.

- It must be Clyde.

Well, I mean, he's big and shaggy.

It's got to be Clyde.

- Don't tell me, Mr. Wilson.

I know my Clyde.

That dog is an imposter!

- But Mrs. Morton.

- The idea of trying to pass off that unkept creature

as my Clyde.

[bark]

- My, isn't this peaceful?

- I just keep thinking about that poor animal.

Dragging him over to the other side of the town

and leaving him there to wander around.

Lost.

- Eloise, what difference does it make

whether he's lost on this side of town

or the other side of town?

- John Wilson!

Little Seymour is right.

You are a mean man.

[scratching]

- John!

There's an old friend of yours at the door.

Wants to see you.

- An old friend?

Oh, fine.

Send him in.

Oh, for the love of-- Eloise!

- Mr. Wilson!

Hey Mr. Wilson!

- I wonder what Frank Buck wants now.

What is it now, Dennis?

- Watch what we taught Tiny to do for you, Mr. Wilson.

Go get it, Tiny!

[bark]

- Really something, huh Mr. Wilson?

I learned it first.

- Give it to Mr. Wilson, Tiny.

- Here, Tiny.

Oh, for the--

- There he is Sergeant Mooney.

There's that horrible dog.

- John, can I see you a minute?

Hi, kids.

- Hi, Sergeant Mooney.

- Sergeant Mooney.

- Mrs. Elkins and I want to talk to you, John.

- Well, if it isn't beauty and the beast.

- I warn you, John Wilson, flattery will get you nowhere.

- Oh, when I said beauty, I was referring to the Sergeant here.

- Is that your dog, John?

- It sure is, Sergeant Mooney.

Isn't he swell?

- Ah, Mrs. Elkins claimed that animal chased her cat up a tree

and almost gave her a heart attack.

- Jeepers, are you sure, Mrs. Elkins?

Tiny likes cats.

- Especially for lunch.

- And that's not all.

When I went to poor Tinkerbell's aid,

that creature almost chased me up my own tree.

- Well, that must've been quite a sight.

- Tiny wouldn't have hurt you, Mrs. Elkins.

- Oh no?

What did he go after me for, then?

- Maybe he thought you were an old bone?

- Sergeant, there are laws to protect the innocent.

I expect you to do your duty.

- Just a minute.

At what time did all this happen?

- At 7:30 this morning.

- Well, I did not become the proud owner of this mutt

until 9 o'clock.

- That's right, Sergeant Mooney.

- See, Mooney?

- There's something mighty fishy going on around here, Sergeant.

- Well, as an old cat, you ought to know, Mrs. Elkins.

- Oh!

- Thought she had me that time, eh Mooney?

What's this for?

- Not having a license for that pooch for yours, happy boy.

- What?

Now just a darn minute, Mooney.

- Why should Tiny need a licence, Sergeant Mooney?

- He doesn't even drive.

- Now this is completely unfair.

The least you could do is give me time to--

- I forgot.

This goes with the ticket.

- What's the hankerchief for?

- We have a new service, John.

Weep now, pay later.

- Welp, that's life.

- Boy that miserable-- This is all your fault,

you flop-earred, flea-bitten, nuisance.

- Look, Mr. Wilson.

Tiny wants to shake hands with you.

- That means he's beginning to like you.

- Well, the feeling is definitely not mutual.

[growling]

- Let that be a lesson to you guys.

When a big dogs want to shake hands with you,

you'd better shake.

- John.

John, I can't sleep thinking about the way you

left that poor dog out in the country

this afternoon to fend for himself.

- I did not leave him out in the country, Eloise.

I left him in the next town.

- Well, it's the same thing.

- Eloise, I consider the matter closed.

[barking]

- What did you say, dear?

- I don't believe it.

[whimpering]

- It's him.

[barking]

- Shh.

Maybe if we don't pay any attention,

he'll think we've moved.

[phone rings]

- Whoever it is, I hear him.

- Mr. Wilson, you have to do something about that animal.

That barking is making my Tinkerbell

so nervous her hair is falling out.

- Well, don't let her leave the house.

There's nothing so distracting as having

a bald cat running around lose.

[phone rings]

- Hello?

- Hello John.

- Oh, hello Henry.

To what do we owe the pleasure of this call?

- Uh, your dog is barking.

I know John.

He is a watchdog, but may I suggest

that he do more watching and less barking?

Oh, think nothing of it John.

That's what good friends are for,

to make constructive suggestions.

Good night, John.

Alice.

- Yes, dear?

- Next time I hope Dennis brings home another goat.

[barking]

- Here, Tiny.

You, uh, wipe your feet.

Come on in.

- Don't look at me with those sad eyes.

[whimpering]

- Stay down here and be quiet.

Now maybe I can get some sleep.

- Why John, Tiny likes you.

- Oh, for the love-- I'm going to get the newspaper, Eloise.

- All right, dear.

Where's the dog?

- Oh, I let him out a couple of hours ago.

He kept hogging the covers.

- Oh no.

Oh you stupid hound, you.

Take every one of those newspapers

back where they belong this instant.

- Well, good morning John.

I see you got yourself a partner in crime.

- Mooney, what are you doing here?

- Uh, Mrs. Elkins called.

She claims that you and your canine friend

here have gone into the newspaper stealing business.

Let's see.

Two, four, seven, nine.

- Mooney, I can't help what that stupid dog does.

- Oh, you can't, huh?

17, 19, 21, 24, 26 cases of petty thief I

can charge the both of you with.

- Mooney, you wouldn't dare.

- Oh, wouldn't I?

Look, if these papers ain't back to their owners

within one hour, I'm coming back,

handcuffing you and that mutt together,

and taking both of you right down to the station.

- I tell you Henry, I don't own that dog.

That dog owns me.

Look at me.

I'm a nervous wreck.

I've only had him three days.

My hands are trembling, I've got a twitch in my left eye,

and I think I'm getting fleas.

- You do look a little worse for wear, Mr. Wilson.

- Don't we all?

- I'm sorry, Henry.

It's me or the dog.

It's a matter of survival.

[barking]

- Hi, Mr. Wilson.

Tiny and I delivered all the newspapers,

just like you wanted.

- Oh, thank you, Dennis.

Oh, here.

There's your dollar.

- Oh boy, thanks Mr. Wilson.

- Dennis, Mr. Wilson's decided he can't keep Tiny after all.

- He can't?

But jeepers, Mr. Wilson, you promised.

- Dennis, I promised I wouldn't take the dog the dog pound

and I won't.

- However, son, I'm afraid we'll have to.

[door bell]

- But jeepers, Dad.

What's gonna become of poor old Tiny?

- Well, as far as I'm concerned, poor old Tiny

will always have a soft spot in my heart.

- Is this the dog, Mrs. Pekin?

- Phillip.

Oh, you naughty boy, you.

Phillips, you rascal you.

- Look at Tiny!

He acts like he knows that lady.

- He certainly does, young man.

He disappeared from home several days ago.

He sometimes does that for a few days.

You rascal you.

Anyway, just as we were beginning

to get a little concerned, we saw the ad

in this morning's paper.

- Oh, uh, that was my ad.

There isn't any reward of course.

- Oh yes there is.

$25.

- $25.

You don't say.

- Well, I know how much trouble a-- a dog like Phillip can be.

When I answered the ad, a Mrs. Wilson

insisted that I give the reward to the little boy who

found the dog.

- But I-- she did?

- Yes.

Are you Dennis?

- I sure am.

- Well, here you are my dear.

And thank you.

- Thank you.

Oh boy.

Wow.

- Well, many thanks to all of you.

Now you come along, you naughty boy.

- Bye, Dennis.

- Goodbye, Tiny.

Take good care of yourself.

- 25 whole dollars.

Gee, Mr. Wilson.

If it wasn't for you and that ad, I wouldn't have this $25,

and Tiny wouldn't be going home with that nice lady again.

- That's right, dear.

- You certainly do owe Mr. Wilson a debt of gratitude, son.

- Oh, no.

It really wasn't anything, Henry.

The ad didn't cost very much.

The dog only ate 10 or 12 pounds of meat and a few shoes.

- You did swell, Mr. Wilson.

And you know how I'm going to show my gratitude to you?

- No, Dennis.

How-- how are you going to show your gratitude to me?

- I'm going to find that lady and give her money back

if she'll let Tiny come over and visit you every Saturday.

- For pete's sake.

- Dennis! - Dennis!

[music]

NARRATOR: This has been a Screen Gems film production.