A dog walks into a pub ...

Friday night, Baldy celebrated his fifth birthday in a place where he was unable to enjoy any of his previous birthdays: in a pub.

Baldy joined my roommate and me for dinner at the neighborhood pub, just a two-minute walk from our apartment. I ordered the goulash, Stephen had some chicken on a skewer, and Baldy had whatever morsels I was willing to give up. He sat on the floor quietly, and the biggest indication of how this sort of thing is handled in the Czech Republic is what didn't happen. Nobody batted an eye, or pointed, or recoiled in horror. The waitress smiled and a couple of customers acknowledged with a fond look, but other than that, there was nothing -- except for one pleasant surprise.

As I was eating pickled cheese and bread for dessert -- it's really supposed to be an appetizer, but I was still hungry -- I felt a tap on my back. An older, rotund man smiled at me and showed me what he was holding: a small pug.

Baldy and the pug said hello to each other with a few sniffs, and then the man and his pug sat at the table next to us. Within a minute or so, the pug was seated on the chair next to his owner and didn't move until it was time to go.

So, a quick question to my American readers. Dogs in bars or pubs: yes or no? Why? I look forward to hearing your opinions.