I love seeing pooches in pubs. But not everyone, human or canine, understands the etiquette | Paul Daley

Not every dog, just like not every person, should go to the pub.

Obstreperous drunks should stay home along with incessant barkers. Brawlers and biters, human or canine – no way!

Soon the dogs of Victoria could be formally allowed into pubs if (and this is a ferociously big if) the Carroll Labor government is returned at the forthcoming state election. While my blue-heeler-collie-cross Olive – who lives in Sydney but hails from inner-city Melbourne – would, if she could, vote for this amendment to the Food Act 1984, she is also well aware that not every bloke or bitch of her species understands pub etiquette.

There’s no place in her books for growlers and sniffers and frisky types that don’t understand “back off”. Or dogs that won’t get the message either.

Olive can go anywhere. In pubs and restaurants in Sydney’s inner west, where she lives, she will sit contentedly at our feet. She is not food driven. She is not interested in the schnitty and chips at the next table. She’ll gratefully accept a pat but is wary of taking treats from strangers – as we should all perhaps be.

She is well in control of her – ahem! – bodily functions in public places, at all times.

Which is more than can be said for the occasional other dog. Or person.

Recently I witnessed a considerable human fracas (that ultimately involved bouncers) at one of my regular watering holes when a small poodle-cross (accidentally, perhaps) relieved itself in the crowded dining room. It was a divisive episode among patrons.

The dog seemed ashamed – more so than the humans we’ve all witnessed do far worse, with greater deliberation, at closing time.

As a dog person, I understand not everybody else wants to see our best friends treading the sticky red carpet down at the local. Some people are legitimately scared of dogs. Others don’t like them around kids on the grounds of safety (simple solution: ban children from pubs and allow in dogs) or hygiene (even though children with dogs may develop better immunity).

There are gentle and sweet dogs who’ve lived in my household who we would never take to the pub – or pretty much anywhere food was being served. Ronda and Nari were labradors. This might sound like an explanation in itself as to why they couldn’t ever settle in public amid food aromas. Both could have competitively eaten for Australia. There was no end to the disgusting dead stuff they scavenged and consumed in various parks.

Then again, potential admission to the pub should not be judged on breed alone. I’ve seen perfectly chilled labs in the pub. Even the odd beagle, a breed that detects a sumptuous ham sandwich at the merest whiff of your leather wallet, and may devour it if given half a chance.

As an aside, I have a mate who had a much-loved black labrador with a sweet tooth. Well, a tooth for anything really. It once pounced on and ate an entire cake at an alfresco birthday party at an (off-leash!) six-year-old’s birthday party. Bad dog! No – Tommy was never going to get to the pub.

On a recent car trip to a (Victorian) wine district, Olive was well pleased to be given a list of dog-friendly wineries. There were usually water bowls. Dog beds. Even treats.

But there were also signs making it clear that people were responsible for the behaviour of their animals.

In any public place, that’s got to be the rule. I love seeing dogs in the pub. I always assume that their behaviour and training deems them fit to be there. I’ve rarely seen a problem.

Last time we were in Melbourne, Olive and I went to several pubs in the inner north. Other dogs were there. Nobody barked. Nobody complained. So here’s the memo: it’s already happening and it might not, therefore, be a (human) vote-changer.

Finally, there is of course a reason bouncers are often on the doors of the pubs we go to. And it’s mostly to do with the behaviour of people – not dogs.