Fuhrer bars crisp eating Goldendoodle,in flatulence incident.

Half a league, half a league,
Half a league onward,
All in the valley of Death..
Alfred,Lord Tennyson,1854

Regular readers of this blog will be aware that I am well versed in the treatment and despatch of badly behaved customers.
However,over the last couple of weeks my customer service skills have entered a whole new and completely unexpected area of expertise,which has forced the introduction of a new policy at the pub.
Previous landlords,in keeping with the country theme,had permitted,nay encouraged,canine companions to accompany their masters to the pub.
Not wishing to make too many changes outright,we decided to reserve judgement,go with the flow and monitor how this panned out over the first couple of weeks.
We've experienced quite an assortment of pooches in this time.Not unsurprising considering there aren't that many pubs round these parts offering dog lovers the benefit of this privilege.
Things came to a head last Monday.
The Inn being a food free zone on a Monday,teatime found Chef ensconced at the bar at the New Pub enjoying a leisurely beer whilst awaiting my emergence from the kitchen.Deciding we'd do lunches every day at the New Pub had proven ill advised from my perspective, in terms of the time off stakes.
No matter,by 6pm I had joined him and was sipping a well earned beverage.
At this point a middle aged couple entered the pub with their much loved pooch in tow,a Goldendoodle no less. (that's a cross between a standard poodle and a golden retreiver FYI,a breed yet to be recognised by the kennel club but popular with owners suffering allergies due to the minimal hair loss-I know this because they told me so..)
Fido lay compliantly down on the floor just behind our bar stools,the owners purchased a couple of ales,some snacks and then took a comfortable seat by the fireside.
They then proceeded to toss crisps across the void for their beloved pet,who scoffed them greedily.
 At this point a gentleman from yon side of the bar traversed the room en route to the little boys room and tripped clumsily over said dog.He laughed a tad too hysterically then made a big show of petting Fido enthusiastically in an effort to hide his obvious embarrassment.
The owners chuckled amusedly: 'Fido, loves to lie in awkward places'
Does he indeed.
Ems intelligent assessment of the situation surmised an ill disguised hint might solicit the required reaction. Channelling her very best Marcel Marceau she negotiated the hurdle that is Fido, stepping slowly and pointedly over the dozing mass.
And again.
No reaction.
Presently, what can only be described as an exceptionally odoriferous odour enveloped myself and Chef as we sat innocently at the bar.Our eyes met simultaneously and accusingly in horror.Then as realisation dawned,our gaze drifted down at Fido lying contentedly on the floor.
The Cheese n' onion crisps had wrought their revenge.
Nostrils curling,Chef smirked,calmly stood up and retired outdoors for a fag.
Fido slowly and deliberately raised himself to his feet and strolled nonchalantly over to his owners side.
Leaving Moi sat alone at the bar,enveloped in the fug.
Predictably,an exceptionally smart couple timeously entered the pub and approached the bar for drinks.
Dear friend,I have no need to describe how this looked.
My burning cheeks compounded my unfounded guilt.
I fronted things out momentarily, then bid a hasty retreat outside, proceeding to berate Chef for his lack of support.
'Eh?Did you see how many cheese n onion crisps the mutt had downed?I wasn't going to hang around when there was clearly going to be another of those in the departure lounge'
Action was needed.
We've introduced a DOG POLICY.

Lets hope the bleepers can read.

As luck would have it,the day following the introduction of the Dog Policy,the flatulent Fido returned.
Being a 'food service time' I was conveniently out of sight in the kitchen.
The owners failed to notice the prominent notices pinned at both entrances.
Ems drew the owners attention to the signs,explaining the reasoning behind the  policy.
'But dogs have always been allowed here,THIS IS A COUNTRY PUB..' Angry faces.
(Well not always,in fact the pub was closed for over 10 years,but lets just draw a veil over that..)
They agreed to finish their drinks then leave.
Ems suggested they might like to sit in the garden,it was after all a beautiful sunny afternoon.No,Fido would be cold apparently,despite the custom made fur coat he was wearing...
Ems explained,by way of a consolation that they were welcome to bring Fido along during 'non food service times'
'No,No that's not going to work for us,we wont be back.'
The gist of the conversation was relayed back to the kitchen as each food order was sent.
Presently, as time passed,it became apparent that despite being informed of the new policy Fidos owners were reluctant to shift.
On a brief respite in orders I decided an appearance in the bar might be in order.
On catching sight of Your Truly the owners stood up,marched over to the bar,remarking loudly:
'Come on Fido( glaring at me not at Fido) lets go,you're BARRED..' 
Then in an audible aside:
'BLOODY,FUHRER.'
One is becoming increasingly thick skinned.

PS Sorry about the lack of an Umlaut couldn't work out how to do it..