Off down the pub
Let me tell you about a new thing I do.
I go down the pub.
My humans recently moved to a house in a place surrounded by fields and woods and I love fields, because I can run loads and get muddy and chase rabbits and squirrels; but the added benefit to being in this 'village' as they call it, is the local pub. I'd never been to a pub before. I think most pubs have strict rules like you have to be a certain age and you have to be human and they check your ID to make sure you are. But this pub is 'dog-friendly' meaning that I can get in without ID.
And pubs are a whole new world to me. First time I walked in, I wasn't sure. There were these two nasty looking bastard dogs sat just by the door, gave me dirty looks and growled at me, as if to say this was THEIR pub. I thought to myself, this is like those East End pubs in the 60s that I've heard about, where someone would glass you as soon as look at you, take a pool cue to your head for spilling their pint, boast about being mates with the Krays and all that. But these local hardcases proved an exception as everyone else in there was very welcoming. I exchanged a few bum-sniffs with some nicer dogs as we made our way to our seats. Not sure my human mummy and the man are equally sociable, as they didn't sniff anyone's bum, but I don't really see humans do that, they just seem to shake hands or kiss or smile at each other and talk about the weather instead. They don't know what they're missing, not sticking their nose up each other's arsehole, they really don't. I think the world would be a better place if they all did. I don't think you humans would have all this hatred between Leavers and Remainers or Tories and Labour if people just smelt each other's bums instead of calling each other names on Twitter; but I digress.
Human mummy always brings some of my treats to the pub, probably because she'd feel bad chomping on Bacon Fries with her pint of Peroni with me staring forlornly at her (my usual strategy for getting what I want). If I stare at her long enough while she's eating, she caves in and gives me one of my treats. But I really want some of those Bacon Fries, because they are delicious, like upmarket Frazzles, a real quality packet of crisps. Sometimes the man lets his hand drop enough for me to have a quick lick of his fingers and get a taste of those delicious crisps and it's funny, because he then has a hissy fit and goes off to the gents to wash his hands.
My favourite thing in the pub is the carpet. It has the best smells and is always worth a lick. Bacon Fries aren't the only thing humans eat in there and drop on the floor, as humans often do with their food, due to their funny-shaped mouths. There are crumbs from all sorts of crisps, pork scratchings (even better than Bacon Fries) and peanuts. If you are a dog with a peanut allergy it's best not to lick the carpet. I hear that lots of humans have peanut allergies, which is why they never lick pub carpets. That means they also miss out on the other thing I like about the carpet, which is that it's covered in spilt beer. Humans are always spilling beer. They fill the glasses right up to the top and then when they try to transport them back to a table, they end up spilling them. You'd think they'd work out how to avoid that. Bigger brains doesn't mean you get everything right. Especially if you make your brains go funny by drinking the rest of that beer. I have to say, just from licking beer up from where it's soaked into the carpet, it does make you a bit of a doughnut. My humans don't stay in the pub long enough to get drunk on beer, but I have seen them at home with that fizzy grape juice they like so much, which is just like beer for making your brain go shit.
The other thing I like about going to the pub is that it means a walk in the dark. I love the dark, it's exciting, you don't know whether a cat or a sheep or something is about to walk out on you. Because I'm jet black, you can't see me, so my human mummy puts a special collar on me with red lights on it. Real disco collar, it is, I love it. I even leave it on in the pub to show off, make the other dogs jealous. Especially those two meatheads by the door. Their fashion sense is more dosshouse than disco.
So, there you have it, a friendly local pub, like that place in the old TV comedy show, 'Cheers'.
Making your way in the world today
when you're a little dog
Taking a break from all your worries
It sure helps beat the slog
Wouldn't you like to get away?
Sometimes you want to go
where everybody sniffs your bum
And they know your human mum
etc etc...
I go down the pub.
My humans recently moved to a house in a place surrounded by fields and woods and I love fields, because I can run loads and get muddy and chase rabbits and squirrels; but the added benefit to being in this 'village' as they call it, is the local pub. I'd never been to a pub before. I think most pubs have strict rules like you have to be a certain age and you have to be human and they check your ID to make sure you are. But this pub is 'dog-friendly' meaning that I can get in without ID.
And pubs are a whole new world to me. First time I walked in, I wasn't sure. There were these two nasty looking bastard dogs sat just by the door, gave me dirty looks and growled at me, as if to say this was THEIR pub. I thought to myself, this is like those East End pubs in the 60s that I've heard about, where someone would glass you as soon as look at you, take a pool cue to your head for spilling their pint, boast about being mates with the Krays and all that. But these local hardcases proved an exception as everyone else in there was very welcoming. I exchanged a few bum-sniffs with some nicer dogs as we made our way to our seats. Not sure my human mummy and the man are equally sociable, as they didn't sniff anyone's bum, but I don't really see humans do that, they just seem to shake hands or kiss or smile at each other and talk about the weather instead. They don't know what they're missing, not sticking their nose up each other's arsehole, they really don't. I think the world would be a better place if they all did. I don't think you humans would have all this hatred between Leavers and Remainers or Tories and Labour if people just smelt each other's bums instead of calling each other names on Twitter; but I digress.
Human mummy always brings some of my treats to the pub, probably because she'd feel bad chomping on Bacon Fries with her pint of Peroni with me staring forlornly at her (my usual strategy for getting what I want). If I stare at her long enough while she's eating, she caves in and gives me one of my treats. But I really want some of those Bacon Fries, because they are delicious, like upmarket Frazzles, a real quality packet of crisps. Sometimes the man lets his hand drop enough for me to have a quick lick of his fingers and get a taste of those delicious crisps and it's funny, because he then has a hissy fit and goes off to the gents to wash his hands.
My favourite thing in the pub is the carpet. It has the best smells and is always worth a lick. Bacon Fries aren't the only thing humans eat in there and drop on the floor, as humans often do with their food, due to their funny-shaped mouths. There are crumbs from all sorts of crisps, pork scratchings (even better than Bacon Fries) and peanuts. If you are a dog with a peanut allergy it's best not to lick the carpet. I hear that lots of humans have peanut allergies, which is why they never lick pub carpets. That means they also miss out on the other thing I like about the carpet, which is that it's covered in spilt beer. Humans are always spilling beer. They fill the glasses right up to the top and then when they try to transport them back to a table, they end up spilling them. You'd think they'd work out how to avoid that. Bigger brains doesn't mean you get everything right. Especially if you make your brains go funny by drinking the rest of that beer. I have to say, just from licking beer up from where it's soaked into the carpet, it does make you a bit of a doughnut. My humans don't stay in the pub long enough to get drunk on beer, but I have seen them at home with that fizzy grape juice they like so much, which is just like beer for making your brain go shit.
The other thing I like about going to the pub is that it means a walk in the dark. I love the dark, it's exciting, you don't know whether a cat or a sheep or something is about to walk out on you. Because I'm jet black, you can't see me, so my human mummy puts a special collar on me with red lights on it. Real disco collar, it is, I love it. I even leave it on in the pub to show off, make the other dogs jealous. Especially those two meatheads by the door. Their fashion sense is more dosshouse than disco.
So, there you have it, a friendly local pub, like that place in the old TV comedy show, 'Cheers'.
Making your way in the world today
when you're a little dog
Taking a break from all your worries
It sure helps beat the slog
Wouldn't you like to get away?
Sometimes you want to go
where everybody sniffs your bum
And they know your human mum
etc etc...
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