A Christmas dog’s dinner

I love animals but you can have too much of a good thing. Take our Christmas lunch at Stanwell House, a lovely boutique hotel in Lymington.

We booked a table in the conservatory hoping to enjoy the last of the pale December light over a Christmas lunch. What we hadn’t bargained for were the dogs. Out of ten tables, five had dogs ranging from the small quail sized Yorkshire terrier to the more meaty Cockerpoo. The problem initially wasn’t the dogs but their owners.

The humans had dressed their dogs up in everything from a stout Christmas lead to a frankly insulting Santa hat for the Yorkshire terrier. It was the behaviour of the owners that was the most revolting. They all seemed to think they had brought human grandchildren to lunch so they spoke baby talk to the dogs and fussed over them constantly.

Things came to a head; or should I say bottom, when one of the dogs took a dump on the restaurant floor. The smell of dog poo is bad enough but mixed with Brussel sprouts simply indescribable.

Thankfully, a waiter saved us and moved us to another room in the restaurant where adults were enjoying lunch, free of dogs.

 

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