Saturday, 16 January 2016

The Dog-Friendly Pub

I was disappointed by my first visit to a dog-friendly pub. It was not what I expected. It was just a smelly room, full of lumpy people who smiled and laughed a lot, despite being sad inside. There weren't any notices but it seemed like it was competition night: to see who could be the noisiest. As the night went on the volume of the chatting got louder and louder until everyone was shouting. I wasn't even allowed to participate, which I would describe as particularly dog-unfriendly.   

I'm not sure exactly what constitutes 'dog-friendly'. I didn't notice any canine modifications at all. I don't think getting a rub on the head by the tipsy woman smoking in the doorway justifies the title 'friendly', especially as she subsequently blew smoke in my face while calling me cute. As the pub served food, I had hoped to join the master for dinner, or at least hoover the spilled food from around the other tables but that wasn't allowed. I was to sit quietly and not start a fight with any of the other dogs. No fun at all.

My idea of a dog friendly pub would have dog bouncers at the door (dobermans probably); it would have a roaring, wood-burning, open fire to lie in front of; when that floor space was full, the other dogs would have comfortable couches to sit and lie upon; there would be a choice of drinks at the bar, not just what was on tap; it would have constantly refilled bowls of free gravy bones and Burns nibbles to snack on at each low table; the games' room would have tug toys to pull and tennis balls to chew; the toilets would consist of a wet room with tree stumps of varying heights, with a grass patch beside them to scratch at afterwards. It would be a howl when we start to sing. Our anthem would be "Who let the dogs out?" Answer: "woof, woof, w-woof, woof". We could drink as much as we liked and not have to worry about getting arrested when we got caught short on the way home. 

Maybe I should start up my own chain. I like the sound of 'The Brindle Breed' but can you think of any other appropriate dog-friendly pub names? Replies in the comment section please.

Thursday, 14 January 2016

My Girl

This morning I watched from the bed as the master and the mistress passed one another in the bedroom; him heading for a shower; her, already showered, going to another room with a towel around her head, dressed in a fluffy, white dressing gown. They chatted about the plans for the day from their separate locations. The master turned on the radio and the opening bars of the song 'My Girl' were playing. He began to sing: properly, out loud and in tune, in the style of The Temptations.The mistress returned with a big pleased smile on her face. It vanished when she realised he was serenading me. 

'Talking 'bout my girl'. 

It's not my fault I'm gorgeous.