Les Chiens

My memories of the dog's life in Paris were way off, I have come to realize. I remember dogs being more welcome than children at French establishments. I remember flipping through a rack of jeans while shopping when a dog popped through the rack and trotted through the store and out the door. I also remember constantly dodging excrement on the sidewalks, publicly accepted as les toilettes pour les chiens. People seemed to just look the other way, knowing the street cleaners would take care of it all that night.

Eight days I have been here and already Majerle and I have been politely booted out of parks three times and asked to leave l'arc de triomphe plaza. I have also been scolded by a parisian when I was caught without a baggie to pick up after Majerle. Although I fail to believe that most parisians are actually picking up after their chiens because having to dodge the "messies," as my nephew would call them, is still a focus of every Parisian's stroll through town.

Dogs don't seem to be that common here, actually. The majority I have seen are puppies curled up in the laps of homeless people, presumably to aid the humans in receiving pity, and Euros. I just want to bring the cute little pups some Schmackos (Majerle's dog treats). The AAWL volunteer in me also wants to help find decent homes for the poor little guys!

There is definitely an exception to the lack of hospitality towards les chiens. Dogs seem to be welcome in the bar scene. No tabac seems complete without a massive retriever mix meandering through the tables or hanging out behind the bar. On one of our first nights here, Brock and I were in a bar chatting with the charming bartender, Rosette. At one point a large black scruffy dog entered the bar. This was her dog Rainbow (sounds RAM-bo when she says it). She told us how he walks the streets on his own but always ends up coming home. Yesterday, several blocks away from that bar, we stepped out of our front door to take a walk and spotted some black fur moving behind the cars across the street. We thought this couldn't be... but it was Rainbow! On our street! We ran towards him and followed as he looked both ways before joining other pedestrians crossing at the cross walk. He seemed to know exactly where he was going but he stopped to let us pat his head for just a minute before resuming his journey. We can not wait to tell Rosette we ran into her mutt on our block!

Whether or not Majerle is welcomed at parks and tourist sights here, the Parisians still seem to like him since they constantly make kissing sounds at him. It never ceases to make me laugh when I see a French businessman puckering up and smooching at my dog.