Greyfriars Bobby: The True Story of a Dog

This is the true story of a dog

who lived almost a century ago.

His monument stands in Scotland's

capital city of Edinburgh to this day,

commemorating his devotion

to an old man whom he loved in life

and guarded for 14 years

after death had parted them.

He made happier the lives of a whole

generation of children who knew him.

This is his story.

Jock, where's Bobby?

Will you listen to his barking?

- Good morning to you, master.

- Morning, Jock.

Bobby's in the barn hunting rats, Elsie.

Take him into the house.

He'll not come for anybody

but old Jock, father.

Aye, he'll come for me.

Bobby!

Down, Bobby.

You come to me

as if you belong to me.

But he'll know he's yours, Elsie,

if you take a wee bit of trouble with him.

Bobby boy. Shall I give you

some breakfast, eh?

Aye, do that, lassie.

- Well, Jock, are you ready to go now?

- Aye.

I have my things.

It wasn't a bad year for the lambing,

master. I can see that.

And young master Wattie

has learned the way of it now.

Aye, you taught him well enough.

Take Bobby into the house.

Jock and me are away to Edinburgh.

To the market.

Whist, laddie!

You're not coming this time.

Go with your mistress

and hold your noise.

Wattie! Open up the gate, will ye?

Come on, boy.

Come on, boy.

Put him in Jock's old seat

in the corner.

Maybe he'll keep quiet there

and stop his grieving.

Mother? Why did old Jock not take Bobby

to the market with him?

Give him a bowl of broth.

Keep him quiet.

Is Bobby really my own dog now,

to do what I like with?

- Aye. He's yours.

- And old Jock will not mind it?

Bobby! Come back!

Bobby, where you going?

Bobby, come back!

Bobby! Bobby! Come back!

Bobby! Bobby! Wattie, stop him!

Stop him, Wattie!

Bobby, come back.

Bobby! You naughty dog! Come back!

Jock, I'm no' happy about you goin'

from Cauldbrae. You know that.

Aye. I'm not happy myself, master.

Well, times are very hard, Jock.

I just cannot afford ye, that's all.

I'm no' blamin' ye, master.

I been a shepherd now for 60 years.

It will no' be so hard to find another place.

I did no' tell the bairns

you wouldn't be coming home with me.

- I could no' tell them.

- No.

It would serve no purpose.

Giyup, boy.

Hello, there!

Steady, boy.

I'm a minute slow by gun time.

How do you get used to the crack of it?

My head nearly jumped off.

I'd like to pay you

for two weeks, Jock.

I'll not take a shilling

I haven't earned.

Well, if you want.

There's no more to be said.

Thank you.

- I'll be goin' on my way.

- Aye.

Goodbye, then, Jock.

Good luck to you.

Come on, you silly boy.

You little imp! Go on.

Get down there. Get down!

Get out of here!

You did no' have to glare at me,

Mr. Traill.

Glare at the dog, jumpin' on my lap

and howling like a banshee.

You're in his master's usual place

for dinner on market day.

What's wrong, Bobby? You're usually here

bang on time with the 1:00 gun.

And you're all muddy and panting.

Where's old Jock?

No, old Jock's not here, Bobby.

Go find him.

I'd take my hand to the wee dog

for dirtying me like that.

If I did that to everyone who dirties up

the place, I'd have my work cut out.

Have you seen the shepherd body

from Cauldbrae, Jock, in the market?

Aye, just after time gun,

but I have no' seen him since.

It's the first time in years

he has no' come to me for his dinner.

Yet his wee dog was here.

Give it back!

Get away!

How did you get here?

You should no' be with me.

You should be home.

You should be home at Cauldbrae.

You'll have the wee Elsie

grievin' for you.

Have a wee drink. Come on.

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