I started writing this post over the weekend, after reading Sherry Long’s Dog Trots Globe To Paris & Provence, a story about Sherry’s trip to Paris and Provence with her husband and dog. In fact, the whole book is written from the point of view of Chula, the Long’s 9-year old Sheltie.
I never finished writing this post over the weekend because Ella, my 9-year old Yorkie, got sick. Again. (At Christmas, she was hit with hemorrhagic gastroenteritis, which is as horrid and bloody as it sounds.) So I spent the last few days at the vet, or nursing my suddenly and uncharacteristically needy pup.
I believe the literary gods call that “irony.”
Ms. Ella is the kind of dog you would expect to be a canine jetsetter. She would, in theory, fit under the seat of any aircraft, and is the perfect (if not trendy) fashion accessory.
I can’t even begin to picture Ella on an airplane, crammed under the seat and whimpering the whole nine hours to Paris (and more than ten back to Miami). She wants to be a part of the action too much. Given her delicate digestive system, I’m not sure what gastrointestinal disaster would result from the trauma of the trip. And I’m not sure there is enough Xanax/Valium out there to keep both her and me calm for that sort of voyage.
That said, were Ella to be a traveling kind of canine, Paris—indeed all of France—would offer her the kind of welcome reserved for foreign dignitaries and royalty. Or as Chula the Sheltie said in Dog Trots Globe, “The French have the right respect for dogs…” You’re far more likely to see a dog sitting at a table inside a restaurant than you are a child.
Chula’s adventures were drool-worthy, for dog or human. She spent days wandering the streets of Saint-Rémy-de-Provence, and exploring the villages of Provence. She (and her biped companions) discovered the dog-friendly spots in Paris, and the few spots—museums, and gardens—that said interdit to les chiens.
But Chula did get to go to a vernissage at an art gallery on the Île Saint-Louis, for American expat photographer Meredith Mullins, and ride a carrousel at the base of the Eiffel Tower. Lucky dog!
The only way Ella will ever make it to Paris is aboard a private jet, so if anyone out there would like to loan me one, we’re ready to go. In the meantime, Miami is, in many ways, similar to Paris in its attitudes toward dogs. While you’ll never see one inside a restaurant, you’ll find the dog to human ratio at many outdoor tables practically 2:1. Dogs are more likely to get a bowl of water delivered to them before waiters even take drink orders for the rest of the table.
Ella has been to Nordstrom on more than a few occasions…she even received a lovely note from one of our salesgirls. I wonder if that would happen at Bon Marché.
Should anyone come through with that private jet (hint, hint), Sherry Long offers all the tips I’d need to get through the bureaucracy of bringing Ella into France.
Want to win a copy of Dog Trots Globe? I’m giving away one copy of this fun book to a random reader. All you need to do is leave a comment below, and I’ll select one winner on Sunday (January 20th). Enter your comment below.