Les Chiens en France, un mise a jour (a dog update)

(Cute clickbait warning!)

I usually take Woody for his first walk of the day at around 5:00 AM. The skies are dark, the streetlights are on, and very few people are walking around. No stores are open except one boulangerie in our neighborhood, Maison Bonnaire.

Occasionally, we run into another pedestrian. They’re usually hurrying somewhere—this being France I always suspect it’s a walk of shame (but I don’t think they call it that). I have never felt the least bit threatened or unsafe. I’m fully aware that I’m a six foot tall, 200 pound man walking a dog (to be fair, Woody doesn’t add much gravitas). I don’t look like an easy target. A lot of the people I see at this time of day are women. They spot me from a distance and keep an eye on me as we get closer. I can feel them relax when I offer a cheery “Bonjour!" without approaching. Then they notice that I’m walking a small dog and stooping over to pick up his droppings and it’s clear I’m no threat.

The morning streets in Montpellier feel safe, despite the many dark corners, and narrow streets.

Woody loves these early morning walks because he usually manages to eat a scrap of croissant or sausage that someone has dropped on the street. By the time I realize what’s going on he has swallowed it whole.

One of the dogs’ favorite destinations is a small park just up the hill from us; it belongs to the Maison des Relations Internationales Nelson Mandela. Italy, Germany, and the Netherlands have their consular offices in the building. Carolyn and I counted this park’s proximity as a major plus when we decided to make an offer on the apartment precisely because we knew the dogs would enjoy it (it also has a small promenade with wonderful views of the city).

The yard around the Mandela facility is full of grassy areas, secluded spots, manicured plant beds, and not too many people (perfect for Rudy!). I was walking Woody up there one morning and realized I was out of doggie bags just as he started doing the frantic circular ground sniffing that indicates an impending . . . uh . . . movement.

“I can’t let him shit in Nelson Mandela’s yard!” I thought and quickly pulled him towards the exit gate.

We got just past the gate and then the time had come—Woody had to finish his business. While I didn’t feel great about him pooping in Nelson Mandela’s driveway, it felt (marginally) less disrespectful than the yard. I went back with a baggie after I got home and cleaned up the driveway; any French person would have thought I was nuts. They’re not big on cleaning up after their dogs.

They are wonderfully dog friendly at the Nelson Mandela House for International Relations.

Woody & Rudy are still adjusting to Montpellier. Everything is new: new apartment, new sounds, new smells, new food, new neighborhood. There’s much less grass and porous surface than they are accustomed to and the cobblestones are hard on their sweet little paws. Poor Rudy has taken to using a pile of rubble from a fallen cornice as his latrine. It’s the only absorbent thing on our block!

Rudy’s favorite spot to pee - I hope another section of cornice doesn’t collapse while he’s using it!

The cobblestones can be so tiring that Woody (and Carolyn) have taken to walking straight up the middle of the street where there’s a shallow V-shaped section of smooth(er) pavers that direct water towards the drainage grates. I have to admit, It’s much easier on the feet/paws.

Smooth pavers in the middle of the cobblestone streets.

Overall, Woody is happy but he seems just a bit anxious and a little more tired than usual. He is over 10 years old, so this might just be normal aging.

Stressed dog? Old dog? Tired dog?

I think Rudy is also more nervous than usual—he has had a few accidents in the apartment. Rudy has always been a coward, afraid of other dogs (even tiny ones) and most people. He’s been barking more than usual and he’s really not happy when Carolyn leaves the apartment; maybe we baby him too much?

Could it be our fault the dog has no courage?

Woody has an endearing habit of making himself a pillow fort when he sleeps. In Texas he does this downstairs on the sofa with our throw pillows and it really seems to be about comfort and warmth.

Don’t you think he looks just a little nervous?

Here in Montpellier, he prefers to nap on our bed during the day. He either encloses himself in a burrow of pillows or makes a tower to perch on top of, princess-and-the-pea-style. When he makes his forts here, it seems more like he is hiding rather than getting comfortable. I know you want to ask: yes, he rearranges the pillows himself.

The prince and the pea. Look at those eyes!

But they are adjusting. They seem to love their new food and we found a great vet (the only one in the old section of town, so it’s lucky we both liked her so much) who said that both dogs are in good health, but we need to start brushing their teeth.

The dogs both love this stuff, “Irrisistable Lamb Nourished on Grass,”which is lucky. Their poop is suddenly the size of cow pies. (TMI?)

They’re both still excited to go on walks, though Woody prefers them shorter nowadays. Rudy still barks every time I come home and he would prefer that I not leave the apartment at all, but he’s happy as long as Carolyn never leaves the sofa.

Rudy in his preferred spot, Carolyn in her Glerups house slippers (we officially recommend this product, as does Blackbird Spyplane).