The dog in question used come into his pub on a weekly basis with a shopping basket between its teeth in which had been placed a drinks order list– two bottles of stout and a naggin of gin (it was always the same) – and a purse.
The publican would read the list and then put the requested beverages into the basket, take the requisite sum of cash from the purse and carefully put back the change.
The dog would then grasp the shopping basket handle back between its jaws and trot off homewards (wherever that was).
This routine was a weekly constant for many many weeks and months until the publican, convinced of the dog’s stratospheric intelligence – decided to follow the dog home in the hope of being able to purchase him for the pub.
He kept up a steady pace behind the dog until it stopped at a very run-down dingy abode on the outskirts of the village where it put down the basket and rang the doorbell with its nose.
Standing behind the dog, the publican was even more impressed until, after a few moments, the door was opened by an old woman who, without hesitation, proceeded to hit the dog with her walking stick.
— “Stop!” remonstrated the publican, “What are you doing?? That’s the most intelligent dog I’ve ever seen!”
— “… ‘Most intelligent dog’ my eye,” responded the old lady, “That’s the third time this week he’s forgotten his keys!”.