So, these two dogs walk into a bar…
Writing by treason on Friday, 26 of January , 2007 at 7:34 am
Years and years ago, I worked with a pretty brunette who loved to travel. It was her dream to become a travel agent - one she realized - because she just adored anything European. She even met and married a Belgian.
“Where will you go next?,” I’d ask her.
“Oh…maybe England again. Or France.”
“Not Italy?”
“Maybe Italy. Milan or Venice - but never anything south. Not ever again.”
“What’s wrong with the south?”
“It’s just disgusting, that’s what. I had to take this train one day. I was forced to sit next to people who brought their lunches - and their goats. Can you even imagine that?”
Yes. I could imagine that. And I knew at that moment that this is where I would one day spend my tourism dollars. I wished I could get on that train. The one with the goats.
It was like when I was eleven or twelve and my hippie cousin and her French husband took me to the Renaissance Faire in Novato. We spent the night at a place I’ll never forget - a place I would visit again with other family members - because I believed it was the most perfect spot in the world. I can’t remember her name, but she was this larger than life, warm, generous, bawdy soul who owned a chunk of land that seemed to attract a lot of oddballs. I recall an enormous house with a bar and restaurant, and little cabins scattered across the property. And animals everywhere. I sat one morning eating breakfast with a fat cat on my lap, and dogs stopping by to see if I’d share something with them. There were birds of all types, livestock, and I swear there was even a monkey. My hands were tired from all the petting. This is paradise, I thought. (Actually, it was probably more like my mother’s house. If you recall, in high school I had to share the couch with not only dogs but lop-eared rabbits, too.)
Neighbors loathed this woman. The authorities were routinely called to investigate. She has animals there, they’d say. Food and animals. Together. In the same area. Aren’t there laws about that? Eventually she was driven out - I think someone finally torched the place to make her and her animals go away.
What is this weird “can’t-have-animals-around-food” thing people have such issues with? Um, may I remind you that animals are food in many cases? The reason I ask - and it’s not only because it’s something I’ve always wondered about - is that there’s that news story about the introduction, in the state of Washington by a Democrat Senator, of legislation that would allow people to take their best friends into bars with them. Their four-legged friends. Specifically, their dogs.
Hell, I’d go to a bar where there were dogs. “But dogs can transmit disease,” critics say. Humans transmit disease, too, and they’re allowed in bars. A lot of people have no qualms about going to a tavern — essentially a meat market — and making contact with strangers they know nothing about. I’d prefer to meet someone and his dog, wouldn’t you? After all, you can tell a lot about a person by the way he treats his dog. Who knows — people might even drink less if they know they have to drive home with their dogs in the car. Patrons might feel safer accompanied by their dogs. These bars might even start attracting a better clientele.
This isn’t mandatory, of course. It’s up to the business owner if he or she wants to invite leashed, well-behaved canine citizens into the establishment. Jeb Bush signed a similar “doggie dining” bill in Florida, making it legal for people and their pets to share a meal outside. There are local businesses here in Albuquerque that permit customers to bring dogs on the patio where food and beverages are served.
This, to me, is great news for both business and the consumer. If a local pub opens its doors to customers who want to bring their dogs and business increases, then the owner and his patrons are probably both happy. Patrons who don’t wish to be in a bar with God’s most perfect creatures will be able to patronize other establishments, I’m sure. So what’s the issue? It’s more freedom, as far as I’m concerned. More choice.
Senator Jacobsen, I raise my glass - and my dog’s water bowl - to you.
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