A proper pub dog deserves proper bar service.

A proper pub dog deserves proper bar service.
Me and the hound had a day off today.
The sky may have looked very blue, but it was a pretty cold day.
Probably an insane thing to do right now, but we have somewhat vague plans for a Micropub.
Our interim thoughts are of a July opening; however there are obvious dependencies.
I’ve been in the pub business for 14 months and it’s been tough. And fun.
After a lot of agonising, I’ve decide to sell my shares in the Schooner. I’ve learned so much in this short time, more than I could have imagined just a year ago.
I’m proud to have contributed to turning around a failing pub, making it a viable business.
While I’ll leave mid-January, I’ll be helping out informally until the end of the financial year.
After which I’ll take some well earned time off, do some work on the house, then explore my next project.
Which may be a pub of sorts.
A picture of a dog on a bar.
Well, the choice was taken out of our hands. The Schooner will close tonight.
We’ll be back as soon as we can. Meanwhile, I need to drink all of the cask ale before it goes off.
Life’s been very busy, so I’m only just mentioning our pub crawl of last Tuesday.
Well, it was more of a dog walk, but pubs were involved. After all, the mutt needs to learn about pubs.
Our walk naturally began at the Schooner, followed by selected bars in Ouseburn.
The dog exceeded our expectations, walking from the Schooner to the Tyne Bar; her first real walk outside.
Apart from one minor attack directed towards a Lurcher, Harriet’s behaviour was great. Well, OK.
Some dog in bar pictures.
Our local, the Three Tuns, did something different last night (different for this pub, anyway), showing that good live music will always attract people.
The place was as busy as it used to be a decade ago, with the gig room full and a busy bar. The style of music wasn’t the norm for the Tuns, but maybe it was time for change.
The Loft Boys and Big Red & the Grinners.
Anyone with an A level in Sociology knows this boot.
Only three and six. A bargain and still available in a bar in Newcastle. Until someone spots it.
And, if they don’t, it’s mine.
A clue. The Town Wall.