Now that we have a dog friendly pub around the corner I get taken much more often. It’s such a treat; treat, you understand, as in lots of fuss and a bag of crisps. And this pub stocks Salty Dog crisps! Made for me!
Here I am, last night, sitting patiently, paw at ready. My mum makes me give a paw at so that I fully appreciate the special nature of getting crisps. Too many aren’t good for a doggy diet, even if they are named after me.
I got lots of cuddles and compliments from other customers. One encouraged me to say hello to her bearded collie and shared a dog biscuit with me.
See why I love the pub?
Our favourite pub: http://www.leftluggageroom.co.uk/
It’s Saturday and I thought my mum would never be ready to take me out. Instead of appearing in her dog walking gear, she was dressed in smart jeans and a soft pink sweater which I know is one of her favourites. I guessed she was bypassing my walk and going out for lunch or something.
But no, she gets the lead, poo bags and my ball so off we go. Instead of going to the park she takes me with her to get a newspaper and then, bliss, she takes me to the pub. She comes back from the bar with a drink, a pork pie and a bag of crisps. Mmm, I love pork pie.
What do you mean, that’s not for me; the crisps are for me? I’m sure if I look plaintive enough I’ll get a morsel. Before I get into hungry puppy mode (big eyes, on the point of drooling), the bar maid comes over, asks me for a paw and offers me dog biscuits. It would have been so rude to refuse!
My mum starts to feed me crisps, slices into her pie and discovers it has a secret – black pudding in the middle. Bleurgh, she says so I know I’m in for a triple treat. I love black pudding!
I am such a lucky dog.
Boutique gin, real ale and real snacks
My mum made an excuse of the heavy rain not to take me on any more walks when she could see I was recovering rapidly and up for it. So, thank heavens it’s sunny today and I got to go round the block again – and was actually let off the lead to gambol about! She hopes it will take the edge of my pent-up energy, of course, and I have to say I made a bit of a nuisance of myself in the pub last night to show how frustrated I was becoming.
I love going to the pub cos I get loads of attention from customers, can have a bit of a chin wag with other sociable dogs and am fed a third of any crisps which are going though I hate it when they buy the chilli variety which stings my delicate taste buds. Unfortunately last night I took an immediate dislike to a fellow canine and was tugged unceremoniously under the table when I wanted to put him in his place.
Someone on the next table made a fuss of me and said she wanted a dog just like me but her husband says no. My mum spoilt any chance she might have had by saying I’d been a nightmare as a puppy. How could she say that when I studiously avoided chewing any of her shoes and concentrated on unimportant things like the kitchen wall, plants and pork steaks?