Considering that he's a hundred-pound retriever in a fourteen-hundred pound horse's body, the damage has been pretty minimal so far. Dug may not have a particularly good grasp of human social graces or even, in fact, human concepts of property and possessions (vis-à-vis all food and toy-like items automatically belong to him) but he has the rather dim idea somewhere in his that if he breaks any furniture inside the bar, he may be in for some quality Cone of Shame time.

And he certainly does not want that, especially if he's still a horse while wearing it. He wants to be a horse while he's a horse!

...or does he? He gives Kate a surprised look, snorting out hard though his nostrils at her words. "Horses do not eat meat?"

WHAT.

"...do they eat bones?"