by Richard Hooton

Created on: May 03, 2008

The world is full of irresponsible people, and I'm one of them. If dogs were permitted in restaurants, I would definitely take mine-all four of them, at the same time. We could get a large booth or a round table with five chairs and I would order up half-pound burgers for all of us-medium rare. No lying under the table for my champions.

Service and therapy dogs are allowed in restaurants and other public places, so I don't see why mine shouldn't be welcomed at the table, too. They are my personal therapy dogs-they make me feel good when I'm with them. At least, most of the time they do-except when they're misbehaving, like when there's food around. The dogs seem to like my company, too-especially when I bring them food, or take them to where the food is, like the supermarket or a burger joint. My three Border Collies and one little runt Australian Cattle Dog are always up for a ride around the drive-thru lane at Sonic Burger in my extended cab Ford pickup truck with the hay bales in the back. They all crowd to the driver's side and try to stick their heads out of the truck when the sack of burgers is handed through the pick-up window-one with everything, and four plain, just the meat and bun, please.

But sometimes, it might be nice to go inside a sports bar and sit down for a burger and a cold beer, and I don't want to feel guilty about leaving my dogs in the truck, waiting and drooling on the upholstery while they hope for something tasty to be brought to them after I finish my meal. The problem is, I'm not sure if anyone else enjoying a meal in the restaurant is hoping that I'll walk through the door with four rowdy dogs at my heels.

Then there's the issue of hygiene. Well, so what if Danny the cow dog has muddy paws, or Archie the Wonder Dog has a sprinkling of hay and horse feed on his dusty black-and-white coat when we walk into the dining area. It's not as though I haven't walked into a cafe with wet and muddy boots myself a time or two. And I'm sure that I'm not going to catch anything from my dogs at a restaurant that I wasn't already exposed to at home. Fact is, humans carry far more transmittable diseases than my dogs could possibly have.

So it all comes down to this-rules is rules. Rules made up by those pesky people at the state and local health departments who believe they know better than the rest of us, and claim they're watching out for the public interest. They think that the public is one thing, and people are another. I don't know how they get their hats on with their heads so crooked. Well, I don't like their silly rules, and neither do my dogs. Reebok and Mayday won't wear a leash, and neither will I. The health departments should mind their own business, and leave it up to the restaurant owners and their customers. The truth of it all is fairly simple-dogs would make restaurants a lot more exciting. People would stay longer, order more food, and have more fun. They would tip better, too. I know I would. Oh, but the chaos!

The three best smells in the world are a hot, juicy burger, a fresh-brewed cup of coffee, and a wet dog. Who could ever argue that successfully? Besides, I like their company at mealtime. Don't misunderstand-I would never try to make the case for a vicious or unruly dog to be allowed into a public eating establishment-they should be eighty-sixed, just like rowdies and drunks. But hard-working dogs deserve a hot meal at the end of a long day, just like the rest of us. Even if their only work was to keep their owners happy. Load up, dogs! I'm drivin' and I'm buyin'. I wonder if we'll make it past the maitre d.

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