Dogs in Paris


Dogs in Paris: A Dogs Life

Now I know I shouldn't be one to judge. I mean I love my cat as much as Darla loves her fish in Finding Nemo. (Kitty, why are you sleeping? Kitty let me love you!) I know I'm a crazy cat lady in training. So I really shouldn't judge. But I'm going to do it anyway because some of these dogs have it made. And some of them have owners like Darla (poor guys!) that just don't understand how to properly love their dogs. So here's the two lives that dogs lead in Paris.

The Pampered Life

Some dogs here are spoiled. I don't know if they even know that they're dogs. They don't have to walk, like anywhere, because women have special purses to carry their dogs in. I mean clearly their paws shouldn't be touching these dirty streets. They're fed only organic dog food that comes from France, because clearly anywhere else is awful. They don't even drink tap water. They given water from water bottles to avoid contamination. And don't be surprised to find one sitting on a chair next to you at a café. These dogs have better table manners than I do. Sometimes I think even the dog is judging me. These are clearly the pampered dogs of Paris.

The Misunderstood Life

Other dogs are just misunderstood. Their owners don't understand why they need to stop and smell the 50th garbage can. They don't understand why they are tired and want to sit down. These dogs go on the metro and look like they are on an acid trip at Disneyland. Once the doors close they get this wild look in their eye and don't know what to do. These dogs are dragged across the streets to not miss the lights. I saw a golden retriever puppy (full size but still a puppy) go into full starfish mode while laying down while it's owner, too small to pick it up, dragged the dog across the street with all the pedestrians laughing at the sight. These dogs are kept on a tight leash to keep up with the fast paced lifestyle, meaning they don't get to stop and smell the roses, or in this case the stinky smells. Their needs as a dog are just not understood. Instead of judging you, these dogs just look past you like they're day dreaming about something, maybe they're imagining what that last garbage can smells like. Whatever it is, dogs seem different here in Paris.

Side Note: An Ode to Poop

Dear dog owners,
I understand living in a large city must be tough for a dog. No space to run around. No place to do their business. So I understand that accidents happen. A dog is gonna go when nature calls. But thankfully in this 21st century we have an invention called baggies. They're great to pick up any poop that you dog leaves behind on the sidewalk so that no one has to step in it later. I also understand not wanting to pick up the poop. I'll admit to encouraging my dog to poop in bushes rather than the grass so that I don't have to pick it up. I get it. But I truly do not enjoy walking on a sidewalk like its a game of hopscotch. It's like a battlefield sometimes and pray that today is not the day where you step on a stinky land-mine. You know it's truly a problem where scooters drive around with a vacuum attached, sucking up the poop. Yes people are paid to be mobilized pooper scoopers. [Do you think people in France threaten bad students by saying they'll end up being a pooper scooper driver rather than saying they'll work at McDonalds?] So please, dog owners, clean up after your dogs.
Someone who looks at the rooftops rather than the shitty sidewalk. 

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