March 20, 2010
Tel Aviv, Israel — “Barkeep! I’ll have some kibble to chase down my Guinness, with haste!” This last week, Frn Friend’s dog was really excited about St. Patrick’s Day. She, like all of the “Irish” that celebrate the holiday only to commemorate its religious significance, despises snakes and desired to consecrate their expulsion from the Emerald Isle with a bucket of fine Irish stout. Turns out Pili is one lucky dog (har har) for living in Tel Aviv — this place just may just be the dog-friendliest city in the world. I’ve seen dogs as big as St. Bernard’s (sans brandy barrels, though I will adorn my future dog, Shev, with this accoutrement) laying about in Tel Aviv restaurants and cafes, casual and fancy. They sniff waiters butts as they take people’s orders and they are free to wander into the kitchens, health inspectors be damned. It’s perfectly fine to take your dog to a bar, encouraged even, and I suspect the dogs here have a finer sense for potent potables than anywhere else in the world. So Pili, being a bitch with a taste for alcohol, is well accomodated by Tel Aviv watering holes, and her St. Patrick’s Day adventures ended in a rousing success. That being, she may or may not have thrown up in her bed and passed out on the floor like the rest of us revelers. L’Chaim to that — or as they say in Gaelic, “Sláinte”!

Tel Aviv, Israel — “Barkeep! I’ll have some kibble to chase down my Guinness, with haste!”

This last week, Frn Friend’s dog was really excited about St. Patrick’s Day. She, like all of the “Irish” that celebrate the holiday only to commemorate its religious significance, despises snakes and desired to consecrate their expulsion from the Emerald Isle with a bucket of fine Irish stout.

Turns out Pili is one lucky dog (har har) for living in Tel Aviv — this place just may just be the dog-friendliest city in the world. I’ve seen dogs as big as St. Bernard’s (sans brandy barrels, though I will adorn my future dog, Shev, with this accoutrement) laying about in Tel Aviv restaurants and cafes, casual and fancy. They sniff waiters butts as they take people’s orders and they are free to wander into the kitchens, health inspectors be damned. It’s perfectly fine to take your dog to a bar, encouraged even, and I suspect the dogs here have a finer sense for potent potables than anywhere else in the world. So Pili, being a bitch with a taste for alcohol, is well accomodated by Tel Aviv watering holes, and her St. Patrick’s Day adventures ended in a rousing success. That being, she may or may not have thrown up in her bed and passed out on the floor like the rest of us revelers. L’Chaim to that — or as they say in Gaelic, “Sláinte”!

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