When I was a kid, dogs were dogs and ate the left-overs from our plates, with the occasional half-tin of Chappie. They were lovely and tough as old boots, because they were all mongrels (testament to the virtues of no in-breeding).
We never had to worry about their paws. If the pavement was too hot they would have skipped about and then jumped onto the lawn (well, not lawn, but scratty grass where the chickens used to scratch about.)
I know, it's different now. I wish no harm to the generation Z dogs, but they do seem to be treated like little babies.