Bookmonger

We’ve been seasonal residents in the Valley for years, and this year have become full-​time, year round residents. So we know the Town well, and we strongly support the local shops in Town Square. We have especially appreciated The Bookmonger, as it is truly an independent bookstore, well-​stocked with interesting finds as well as contemporary best sellers.
So why this lukewarm review, you ask? Well, let me tell you.
We take our well-​behaved small Shih-​Tzu with us everywhere we go up here. And I mean everywhere, into all the shops and stores and even restaurants (in his closed carrier case, of course) and he is known and loved by virtually all the business owners and their employees here in town. Most know him by name, and always welcome him with treats, pats, love-​coos, etc. In other words, he’s considered a local and we appreciate and love that about this place.
We took him into the Bookmonger all summer long, as usual, this year – at least once a week, to browse, shop for presents for our grandchildren (great kids selection, btw), buy postcards, maps, etc. Every single time whoever was behind the counter came out to greet our Willy, pet him, talk to us about him. Very welcoming and friendly.
I would like to stress that he really is a well-​behaved dog. I mean, he doesn’t even bark. Ever.
Anyway, a couple of weeks ago, after our morning visit to Anne The Post Office Lady (who has a doggie treat ‘window’ at which Willy patiently waits for her to hand him his daily treat through the slot) my husband told me he wanted to check something in the bookstore. As always, he walked in with Willy (who, as always, was on a leash).
A man we’d never seen before (and remember, we are super-​regular custiomers) but who was obviously in charge, or certainly thought he was, immediately snapped at my husband before he was fully in the door:
«I can’t have that dog in here.»
Quote, unquote. Just like that. The rudest, nastiest encounter we’ve ever had with a merchant in this tiny, friendly place. My husband, dumbfounded, didn’t point out that Willy has always been welcomed warmly in that very store, and what was up with this sudden change in policy (no sign on door announcing anything like) –not to mention the guy’s preemptive, unfriendly tone?
So my husband merely replied, «Well, then I guess you won’t have me ‘in here’ either,» and turned on his heel and walked out. We have not been back.
And I’m really sorry about it. I would love to be able to still shop here. I loved this bookstore, and I loved the knowledgeable, helpful, FRIENDLY, doggie-​loving staff.
But I am not patronizing a place where the owner, or manager, or whoever he is (can’t believe he was an employee, because of his arrogance and belligerence in speaking as he did to an unsuspecting patron – I don’t think employees believe they have the right to be that rude) treats his customers like that.
So, Sir Whoever You Are: A piece of advice: Don’t alienate the locals with your inexcusable and unnecessary rudeness! And get used to the fact that people are going to bring their dogs into your shop, because virtually every neighbor I know here has a dog and expects that dog to be welcomed, just as we do, everywhere they go.
It would have been different if he had said, «Oh, I’m sorry sir, but we can’t allow dogs because…» That would have at least been a polite beginning to a dialog, and frankly, I do understand the owner of a business gets to make the rules about this sort of thing. I think that rule is a particular mistake in this particular place, but if he’d been reasonably polite about changing a long-​standing practice, we would have at least felt, oh, I don’t know… different about it all. It was his outright, unmistakable nastiness that made the encounter so baffling.
You are in the wrong town if you’re going to behave like some snotty shopkeeper in some snotty place. This is not what the Valley is, and once the word gets out that you rudely turn people with dogs away, you will quickly find that out.