Through the Doggie Network I had heard about how daring the French dogs were, but I really had no idea. This was surreal, beyond my wildest dreams. I was in the Vet's office for a check up, and right there where everybody could see, there were advertisements for relationships all directed at me. It was all so blatant, I blushed. I didn't know what to do. My folks were right there. Oh no, I hope they do see what I looking at. Weak in the knees I sunk to the floor. I was panting. I tried to look cool, but I wasn't.
While they were called to the desk, I did some quick note taking. Can you believe this: "Looking for a friend of the same breed, for sentimental relations and more," signed Sophie. More! Just imagine! What could that possibly mean? I was really working up a sweat thinking about that, when I read the next ad. "Looking for fun and excitement on New Year's Eve, if interested call, Fifi." Both listings even included photographs, and the girls were really cute. I haven't called. I'm not sure I want to because I am already seeing an English dog, Korri, who lives here at the port.
What would happen if my folks found these notes? Maybe I should start the New Year right and get rid of them. What to do? Oh la la la la!
I tucked the phone numbers away in a safe place, and we took the train to Paris.
It was a good diversion, because I found that I love Paris. It is a pretty city with lots of cute dogs and nice people. We went to great cafés where the waiters brought me my own bowl of water, and everyone patted me on the head.
Because it was New Year's Eve, everyone was in a party mood. We were there with our family, and while we were in Horse's Tavern, they got busy talking and kind of forgot about me. A young women across the room kept smiling at me, so I went over to say hello. She started to pet me and she said sweet things to me in French. I think she really liked me. Yes, this could be love. How do we look together?
I hated to leave Paris, I was just beginning to learn my way around. I had already found many favorite spots. I do love Paris, but the real reason that I didn't want to leave was that I knew we had to take a taxi to get to the train station. I had hoped that maybe we would just stay, and that I wouldn't have to deal with the taxi suit issue. I am after all an optimist.
The morning of our departure, everything seemed okay until at the last minute, when they started coming toward me with the suit. I know my folks mean well, and I'm a gentle soul, so I let them put it on me again.
When the taxi came to take us to the train station, the driver hopped out and almost doubled over in laughter when he saw me in my taxi suit. The hotel staff had come out to wave goodbye to me and everyone was smiling. Unlike other times when cabs have come and refused to let me get in, this man held the door open for me and said that I was welcome to ride with him anytime.
I might look silly in my suit, but because of it, I can hop in any cab in Paris, pas de problème.