Back in the 1980s I loved Paris in the summertime, especially during ‘le Grand Depart’, France’s traditional month-long vacation slot. A large percentage of Parisian disappeared from the City of Light. The traffic or ‘circulation’ lessened and the skies cleared of diesel fumes. Of course hundreds of thousands of tourists replaced the native population in the popular quartiers to view the sites, but they were easily avoided in the outskirts, where the Parisians took care of loose ends before hitting the Autoroute.
Back in the July of 1985 I strolled through the Bois de Boulonge, which is much larger than Central Park. A for-door Citroen pulled onto the grass verge near le Lac Inferior. A family was packed inside the sedan. All their bags loaded on top. An older man got out and pulled a well-coiffed poodle from the car. His children were crying, “Fifi.”
The man picked up a stick and threw it into the woods. The dog chased it and the man jumped behind the wheel to drive away leaving of cloud of diesel and Fifi. The big poodle bounded back to the road with the stick in its maw. His head swiveled right and left searching for the car.
The poodle looked at me and panted with a friendly smile.
I already had a dog and apologized to Fifi, “Sorry, you’re on your own.”
Later that evening a friend explained that the poodle had been abandoned by the family for the summer vacation.
“C’est le tradition.”
Over the course of the next month I spotted Fifi running wild with other dogs throughout August.
They seemed happy to be tramps.
A month later I was in the same section of the park and spotted the Citroen slowly cruising the woods.
The driver called for his dog.
“Fifi, Fifi.”
I shook my head thinking him cruel, but Fifi appeared from the underbrush.
His hair was matted like a Rasta and his body considerably thinner after a diet of squirrels and trash.
The car stopped and the man greeted his dog, as if this rendezvous had been planned from the start.
“Oh, Fifi, time for you to see the beauty salon.”
The owner put him back in the Citroen. Fifi licked his master and they drove off in the direction of Neuilly-Sur-Seine, proving once more Josh Fielding’s old adage, “A dog is the only animal that loves you more than it loves itself.”
Even if their owners are Parisienne.