A man walks into a pub...

... And orders his regular ale from the landlord.
The landlord duly pours him the pint, places it on the bar, but as the man reaches for it a dog runs in, grabs the pint, downs it and runs out the door.
"That's very strange" exclaims the landlord, "let me get you another".
So the landlord pours him another pint, places it carefully on the bar, and the man again reaches out to take it. Again, the dog runs in, grabs the pint, downs it and runs for the door.
"How very strange" says the landlord. "Third time lucky, but this time he'll not get away with it!"
The landlord pours a third pint and readies himself. The dog runs back into the bar, grabs the pint, downs it and heads for the door. This time, the landlord is waiting for him with the fire axe, swings it at the dog but only manages to chop off his tail. The dog runs yelping into the street, gets hit by a car and sadly dies.
At the pearly gates the dog says to St Peter "Well, how about it, can I get into heaven please?".
St Peter says to him "You're a bit young to be here, how did you die?"
So the dog recounts the story of how he popped in to his local pub for a few pints, the landlord took exception to his presence, swung an axe at him chopping his tail off and he ran yelping into the street, got hit by a car and died.
St Peter was sympathetic to the dog's story, but had to deny him access as he was without his tail. "I'll give you a few hours to go and retrieve your body part, and then you can come in to heaven" he said.
So the dog returns to the pub which, by this time, was shut.
The dog bangs hard on the door. Eventually the landlord wakes up, comes downstairs and unbolts the door. He is aghast at seeing the ghostly dog standing before him.
"What are you doing here?" he enquires, "I thought you died after I got annoyed with you stealing that mans beer, swung the axe at you, chopped off your tail and you ran yelping into the street and got hit by a car."
"I did" said the dog, "but St Peter won't let me through the pearly gates unless I get back my missing appendage."
To which the landlord replies "I'm sorry, we can't retail spirits after eleven o'clock."