Just out of the Post Office, I stop to window shop at the Pawn. My reverie is broken by a harsh cry, "Right, that's it. Get the polis! Ah'm gettin you cherged," and even more urgently, voice rising, "Cherged!"
I turn to see the guardian of Govan's Labradoodles, "Subway" coffee cup in one hand, cigarette in the other, storming towards an elderly gent in a wheelchair, one of Govan's double amputees.
A sturdy security man from the offices upstairs puts his hand up to stop her attack and tries, not with much confidence, to quieten her down.
"Naw, naw," she's shouting "He's no gettin away wi' this. This isnae the first time he's done this."
An elderly woman at her back starts to shout, "That's terrible you, leave him alane. He's a disabled."
"Ya sly auld pig," says the dogs' mum, "Ah seen ye, on yer way tae the pub, tryin' tae run them ower -don't think Ah never, an that's you at it again!" and she turns back and charges towards the old man again only to be stopped by the security man, who along with a colleague stands in her way.
She leans over as near to him as she can get, and says menacingly, "Ah seen you, an' am gonny get ye for it."
The old lady is getting frantic now and screeches, "Will you just leave that man alone!"
Now Missis Labradoodle turns her attention to the lady and whirls around yelling, "How would you like it if he tried to run your grandweans doon? Eh, how would you like that? That's whit he's done tae ma dugs. Aye, ye did," she accuses the gent, "Ye're always tryin it," and she speaks now to the gathering crowd, "Don't think Ah've no seen ye, tryin tae hit them - swervin' right intae them when they're tryin tae get oot yir road. Ye chase them on purpose ya wee. . " and here she breaks off as the security guard puts his hand on her shoulder and asks her to move away.
"Naw, leave us!" she wails.
Another old lady, tall and smiling, with curly brown hair is chuckling and saying to the three doggies, "Is that what that old rascal did, ma babies? Did he try to knock yous all down?"
Again, the refrain, "How would you like it if he kep' tryin' tae knock doon your grandweans?"
All the time the elderly man sits in his wheelchair, a benign smile upon his cheery face. He's wearing a furry helmet with ear flaps down, a scarf at his neck and a tartan travelling rug over the stumps where his legs should be. He looks kindly, bemused, calm.
Mama Labradoodle is riled to the limit and brandishing her coffee cup, screams "Watch it you, or ye'll huv nae heid tae go wi' yer nae legs!"