Ban all pet dogs from pubs – you know I’m right

Who let the dogs in? It’s the question the Baha Men never dared to ask. But it’s also a question that has, to a dogless individual like myself, never seemed more pressing. We’ve all seen it, of course: you’ll be at the pub, or perhaps even a restaurant, sitting next to a group of people who’ve decided, for some godforsaken reason, to bring along a dog. Granting these animals a level of entrée into the human world not even bestowed on Scooby-Doo, these pet owners allow their beloved curs to lounge around, bark over neighbouring conversations, walk over the tables (if they’re small enough), and soak up giddy coos from passers-by, all the while flatulating with abandon.

It’s not just me who has taken umbrage at pugs in our pubs; on Sunday, a tweet by a British carpenter went viral, complaining of exactly this phenomenon. “Just sat down for a nice meal with family,” he wrote. “Ten minutes in, a couple come with three dogs. One yapping the whole time, the woman laughing about it, but no control, can hardly hear ourselves talk. Much prefer the days when it was the norm for them to be kept outside.” He went on to cite additional hygiene infringements – service staff eagerly stroking the dog, with no apparent washing of hands in the aftermath. It’s clear the X/Twitter user struck a nerve: the post has already been viewed nearly 3 million times, racking up thousands of comments and 12,000 “likes”.

But he has a point: the country’s penchant for pooches is making trips out worse for the rest of us. Pubs in 2024 are often enough of a minefield anyway – bland, characterless decor; grotty and urine-soaked men’s rooms; pints that cost as much as a second-hand car. Do we really have to add dogs into the mix? The dogs themselves are surely getting little out of being tethered to a table in a boxy beer garden. Far be it from me to suggest that people are bringing their pets to public eateries simply for attention – but it seems like a situation where the drawbacks axiomatically outweigh whatever conveniences there may be.

To be fair, I am probably not the most balanced person to be weighing in on all matters canine. As a young child, I was terrified of dogs, and while I was slowly able to metabolise this fear into a benign apathy – rather than some Cruella de Vil-esque vendetta – there’s ultimately something about dog ownership that I just don’t get. I’m sympathetic, too, to the notion that pubs (and, to a lesser extent, restaurants) are communal spaces. You shouldn’t go to a bar expecting silence and solitude – the clutter and fray of human coexistence is part of the fundamental appeal of pubs, after all. But, to be clear, this is human coexistence I’m talking about – pets are another kettle of fish. (Another kennel of dogs?)

There may also be some hypocrisy in the fact that I generally have no issue with babies and children being allowed into pubs – and children can often be far more obnoxious than a stoic little chihuahua. Ultimately, it’s all about context. It depends on the specific pub, and the specific time of day, and the specific temperament of the dog and/or child.

Today’s creeping permissiveness when it comes to dogs at the dinner table could also be worse, of course. We’re not yet at the point where people are bringing their four-legged friends to gigs, or sporting events, or into nightclubs. (Though I did once see a man use his fingers to puppeteer a dead squirrel in the queue for a nightclub up in York.) Doggies don’t have dominion quite yet. But when it comes to humouring our hound-lovers, we need to draw clear lines in the sand – it’s just a matter of time until this country’s entire social scene goes to the dogs.

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