Bonjour again from Paris. We are here, somewhat settled in, quite jet-lagged, and enjoying exploring this most gorgeous city. Napoleon set out to make Paris the most beautiful city in the world during his short but highly effective emperorship in the early 1800s, and it worked. Granted, a good many statues and national treasures are spoils of war, but you can’t look anywhere without seeing grandeur.
Pali at the Louvre's pyramid.
Having Pali with us has made this experience in Paris unique. We were here nine years ago as a young couple newly engaged, acting the typical tourists. This time, in addition to snapping our fair share of photos, we’re always on the lookout for good grass (and I'm afraid I don't mean that euphemistically)! The great irony of Paris is that it is one of the greenest cities in the world with over 400 parks (some extremely small, some former hunting grounds that stretch for miles).
However, almost all of these parks are off limits to dogs (signs with a big red “x” through a dog are posted all around the perimeter)!
No dogs allowed.
This has been my greatest disappointment so far. While dogs seem to be allowed at most indoor establishments, much of the grass is prohibited. My guess is that this ban is a direct result of the Parisians' famous disinclination to pick up their dog’s excrément. Although they no longer employ scooters to drive around and scoop up what the dogs leave behind on the streets (owners are now supposed to pick up after their own dogs or face a stiff fine), there are still a lot of landmines on the sidewalks. A survey I saw said that 95 percent of dog owners say they pick up after their dogs, but in reality it’s about 65 percent, hence, no doggie privileges on grass used by humans.
And use the grass they do. The city lives outdoors. The parks and jardins are filled with families picnicking, children playing, friends talking, and couples kissing and kissing, and kissing—I am not exaggerating; couples are entwined in each other’s arms for hours. It’s no wonder they have a kiss named after them.
We enjoy Luxembourg.
Back to the hunt for grass though. Pali, not being a native city girl, is used to going on grass. Even in San Francisco we are fortunate enough to have our own yard, so she has never had to learn to use the concrete. Dogs here learn to go in the gutter, but Pali will have none of that. So, we hunt for grassy areas open to dogs, and we have found a few. I’ll be keeping a comprehensive list and publishing them all at the end of our stay, but the main areas that we’ve found that are close to all of the central Paris attractions are these:
They prefer not to have dogs use the grass at all, but since Pali won’t go anywhere else, we have to risk it. I make sure my baggie is brandished high to assuage worries.
A bit of grass at Tulileries.
Yesterday, starting to get a bit worried about the lack of off-leash running time for Pali, I posted an ad on the local craigslist asking for advice from local dog owners. Not only did we get some practical tips, we also have a play date for next Sunday with some ex-pats from Oakland who have a Chihuahua/Jack Russell mix. The tips led us to trek to Bois De Vincennes, a huge park on the outskirts of town (parks seem to be more dog-friendly than the immaculately cared for gardens). It’s the sort of side trip we never would have made as “usual” (read: dog-less) tourists; it’s too far off the beaten track. But I’m so glad we did find it—it’s a whole different world, a world that feels like one inhabited by real Parisians, not just tourists. We were there for hours and only explored a small portion of it. Pali finally had a much-needed romp off-leash, something her hound side needs to maintain sanity. This park is one of those areas that is technically on-leash, but judging from the locals and their free-running dogs, in practice, off-leash. The park features a large lake in the middle, a lake that proved to offer a bit more of a temptation than Pali could resist.
We were trying to take a family portrait, one of those affairs where Stephen set up the camera on a post, and we posed near the water. While we were paying more attention to smiling at the camera as it counted down, Pali was paying more attention to several ducks that swam too close to shore than is wise for ducks when a dog is watching their ever move intently. Before I knew it, I was almost pulled into the water as Pali leapt in, leash trailing behind her. We yelled at her to come back, yelled a bit more; finally, we started begging. I was worried we might have an international incident on our hands: a foreign dog invading an innocent lake to chase “the enemy,” unprovoked, unilaterally (one might even say, preemptively).
French couples walking around the lake stopped to laugh and snicker at our feeble attempts to stop the chase. Unfortunately, the ducks stayed just a little in front of Pali’s nose, still within reach in her one-track mind which meant that she ignored our frantic calls entirely. Finally, she reached the other shore, gave up on the chase, and swam back—much more slowly now that the ducks were out of sight. She clambered out with an extremely self-satisfied grin. The good news was that she slept very well that night.
Pali roams at Vincennes.
Another oddity that we’ve noticed is that Parisians don’t seem to like to let their dogs meet Pali; when we pass another dog on they street they yank them to the side and forcefully keep them from sniffing noses. Many of the dogs we have met seem somewhat unsocialized. They are over-eager, snappish, or skittish. I think this may have to do with the lack of places to socialize. Without any official off-leash areas, dogs don’t learn to be dogs. The French seem to love their dogs in their cafes, on their laps, in their shoulder bags, but they don’t seem to like them running around being dogs. (This also might be why the transportation system favors small dogs, but more on that in a later post.)
After quite a bit of rambling about some challenges we’ve faced, I should mention the huge perk: Pali is allowed to come into restaurants and shops with us. The first night we were here we tested this often-told rumor and were pleased to find out it’s true. The three of us walked into a restaurant; the maître d' smiled us and Pali; then he showed us to our table. Pali curled up on a small blanket we brought for such occasions at our feet while we enjoyed a leisurely dinner. Later, during a quiet spell, the waiter came over and started talking to us about his dogs and remarked about how well Pali was behaving. I was thrilled.
The truth is that even if restaurants didn’t allow dogs inside (and a few don’t), there are still many options since this is a sidewalk city. This is the city that invented the concept of the café, and I’d bet there are more cafés per capita than any other city. And, all of them seem to do a booming business. The cafés are filled until the early hours of the morning, chatter and laughter pouring out merrily into the streets. This is where life happens, outside, talking to friends, drinking a coffee or a glass or wine, watching the world go by. In fact, many cafes have their outdoor chairs all facing the street: the whole point is to people-watch. You can sit there for hours with your dog happily sitting beside you without worrying about being rushed—this is the point of it all. No wonder they live an average of three years longer than Americans!
All things considered, it’s a huge perk.
Pali hangs out while I enjoy coffee with a new friend.
Daneen, so interesting to read about your wonderful trip and that you've found some "green" places for Pali to do her business. She's a wonderful doggie with a gentle personality and must be thrilled to be able to eat with you and not be left in the office anymore.
Posted by: Maria R-B | July 28, 2007 at 06:39 PM
Wonderful! I love this unique American angle of life in Paris. My brother's golden, Chester, would probably have a hoot, and an uncontrollable one at that. Chester, however, has no problem "going" on the sidewalk as I learned last summer walking him through my parent's neighborhood in Denver. He'd fit right in!
Posted by: Paul Kim | July 31, 2007 at 07:25 AM
Thanks for the encouragement Paul & Maria. I'm just getting ready to post Part III--Pali had yet another dip in a French pond in hot pursuit of ducks! I think she is determined to get some French cooking of her own hunting.
Posted by: Daneen | July 31, 2007 at 08:02 AM
I enjoyed your articles!
It appears that you can't use the "she's a therapy dog" trick there in Paris to get Pali into certain places or is it pretty much the same?
Posted by: Tim | August 03, 2007 at 05:21 AM
Well, she is a certified therapy dog, but even in the U.S. they don't have the same privileges as a working service dog. Now that you mention it, I haven't seen any working dogs here--not guide dogs, not any kind. I'll have to ask when we go to the pet food store tomorrow about that.
I do like that the French are much more relaxed about dogs in general in cafes, etc. It makes me wish we could get some laws changed at home.
Posted by: Daneen | August 03, 2007 at 09:43 AM
Hi Daneen! I'm finally getting caught up on your adventures with Pali in Paris. It seems that the three of you are really enjoying your time there. Still reading along....
Posted by: Cynthia | August 23, 2007 at 03:57 PM