A Dog’s Breakfast

Dog's breakfast

‘Going to a dog’s breakfast this morning Enzo!’ said the Silverback, flashing his ‘I’ve just used words you’ve never heard before’ grin. I didn’t have a clue what he was talking about but didn’t let on. I got up casually and wandered over to the front door. Whatever it was, the lead was going on and we were all going out in the van together, so it couldn’t be too bad! I’m not sure if he realised, but I’d already had breakfast before he got up.

A few minutes later we were going into Rococo, on Hastings street, a dog friendly restaurant we visit often. The folks particularly like to go there on Sunday when they have the flamenco guitarists playing. Rococo has all the things you’d expect from a good dog-friendly restaurant; silver bowls, astro-turf in the outside areas, brush turkeys strolling by, house dog, friendly waitresses and other customers with dogs. Dogs are even allowed in the undercover areas when it rains! The folks are more interested in the Italian food and wines, but for me it’s the dogs that make it.

The house dog is a black Labrador called Gypsy. Apparently a rescue dog back in the day, she’s been working at the restaurant for years, knows English and Italian words and has become a respected elder of the local dog community. How’s that for a success story?

When we sat down, I noticed something was different. We’d never been there in the morning before and there were LOTS of dogs. Even some of the people from Saturday morning dog training were there. It turned out the chef had decided to put an item on the menu just for dogs and this was the launch. How good’s that? No more scraps dropped under the table, a dog can now order from the menu at Rococo and eat from a bowl. What’s more, it’s made by the chef, not from a can!  I nearly got a bit of another dog’s breakfast as a sample on the way to the table, but the Silverback had the lead just too short. Always one step ahead the Silverback. I sat under the table licking my lips in anticipation.

Looking around, I noticed expressions of amazement on the other dog’s faces. We all looked at each other telepathically.  Was this the dawn of a new era for dogs? I knew the Big Dog in the sky would be looking down and smiling. I was concerned when the folks ordered me the ‘small dog meal’ but I needn’t have worried, it was plenty. Those Italians know how to fill you up! After I’d finished, the waitress came around and filled the bowl with water, how’s that for going the extra yard? It would have been impolite not to drink it all. The folks had their usual eggs on toast, orange juice and coffee. Everyone was happy.

I’ve previously thought of Rococo as a four to four and a half paw restaurant but, based on their new dog menu I’m going to go ‘all in’ and give them five paws.

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