THE two girls next to Yours Truly basked contentedly in the sun, a playful Dee estuary breeze cooling them down.

May 31 2008 by Mike Chapple, Liverpool Daily Post

THE two girls next to Yours Truly basked contentedly in the sun, a playful Dee estuary breeze cooling them down.

One had just had a good scratch and was having a sniff at something you’d rather not know about.

The other was supping a pint of Scrumpy Jack cider.

You’ll be left to guess one of these was Pub Column companion Lady Penelope of Pensby, and the other Sheba the terrier.

We had driven to The Harp at Little Neston, oft described in passing but never featured in full (although Yours Truly wrote a full melodic score eulogising about this pub in the Post’s sister paper, the Echo, a couple of years back).

I’ve been back many times since, as – quite simply – it is a charming olde worlde pub, serving the finest ales, situated in one of the most picturesque of all locations.

So it’s high time you, dear reader, had an update on how marvellous this place is.

The original building comprised three cottages dating back to the late 17th century, designed for the miners who once worked at the long defunct colliery that operated nearby.

On this particular trip with Penelope, the company of pub musketeers had been completed by Sheba, a loveable Jumble of a Heinz 57 variety terrier, the incorrigible snuffler mentioned earlier whom the Lady was minding for her niece, Ailsa.

For those with dogs, this is indeed a pooches’ paradise, especially for ramblers who have one in tow. Situated on the edge of the Burton Marshes, with stunning views across to the foothills of the Welsh mountains, it is the perfect place to begin or end a journey with man’s best friend.

Right on cue, along came a personable lady walker with a bounding terrier of her own.

After tiredly plonking herself down on the bench adjacent, she allowed Sheba and her now new-found friend to indulge in some extra-curricular sniffs, before nonchalantly pulling off her right leg.

“Ah, that’s better,” said a relieved Mrs Rambler, as the amazingly life-like prosthetic limb, complete with attached walking boot, lounged disconnected between us. To complement this somewhat surreal scene, a bloke almost immediately drove up in a car, to unleash two pooches of his own, one of which had lost its right rear leg. This didn’t stop him from joining in the fun and hopping around with the other three canine bounders, the artificial leg being used as a makeshift maypole.

But it’s not just animals who will discover a sense of contentment playing at the Harp.

Families with children are also welcomed by Albie and Julie Jones who, together with daughter Katherine, have been ensconced here for nearly two years.

Ostensibly, though, it’s a traditional pub for drinkers who love a “perfect pint with a view” without piped music and a tiny telly that’s only switched on for prime sporting events such as the FA Cup Final. There is food, but it’s only available Tuesday to Friday from 12 to 2, and not at busy sunny summer weekends. This allows full priority to be given to the pulling of pints – of which there are plenty to choose from.

Albie, a former firefighter who put his savings into buying the pub, passed a cellar management course with a distinction.

This proves useful when there’s six different cask ales to look after, the Pub Column choosing a rich Jennings Snecklifter, drunk in the wonderful al fresco from a real glass – and not a plastic one.

The significance of this may be lost on Sheba, but not some CAMRA purists who may know something of the pub’s more recent history.

But, whatever the glass, the Harp is class.