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4/19/2003

 
| Man's Best Friend -- International Style

This past October my wife and I went to Paris. It was incredible. (Well, the Mona Lisa was a bit overrated, but that’s just me) I think I could live there. I really do.

My wife and I walked a street on our way to Notre Dame, overlooking the Seine, which consisted entirely of pet shops. Every store was full of puppies in glass cages that stared out at us as we went along.

The museums were incredible – but you already knew that.

I even visited Jim Morrison’s grave. Did you know they sandblasted away the graffiti and have two police officers which stand guard at all times? I didn’t know that. Chopin is also buried in the same cemetery as is Oscar Wilde and many, many more.

Moi, at a very clean Jim Morrison grave site.


One of the best experiences there however was meeting Jimmy – The American Dog Living in Paris.

My wife and I would be exhausted each day after sightseeing. We were fortunate to find a local restaurant that we enjoyed for dinner and we went there several times. Here is something else I didn’t know – in Europe people are allowed to bring their dogs everywhere with them. Dogs are allowed in stores, restaurants, etc. That in and of itself is cause for moving there. Anyway, it was at this restaurant where we met Jimmy.

Jimmy is a collie dog, old and has arthritis. Jimmy was resting on the floor behind us as quiet as can be even though the restaurant was quite noisy. I mentioned to my wife how well behaved the collie was.

His owner heard this and told us in an American accent,

“You’re American!” “So am I!”

It was then we learned Jimmy’s name.

It seems Jimmy moved over to Paris when his owners took a job in Paris; he is originally from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. He has lived in Paris for about five years.

It turns out that because of Jimmy’s arthritis, he has a hard time climbing stairs. This is a real quality of life problem for Jimmy because he lives on the third floor walk-up. When he leaves his apartment he has to be carried up and down the stairs. The woman who owned Jimmy took him out to dinner because she was waiting for her husband to come home from a late business meeting; they had to wait for him so Jimmy could be carried upstairs. Jimmy looked pretty tired – I hope he didn’t have to wait long for his Dad to come home.

It was quite obvious that this husband and wife loved their collie – and Jimmy seemed content – albeit a bit ragged from age.

Poor Jimmy. The American Dog Living in Paris.

I have hunch that due to Jimmy’s age he will never see his native Pennsylvania again and will probably be buried in Paris.

I will never forget it. And the thought of Jimmy being carried upstairs to his Paris flat brings a tear to my eye. He is loved.

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