Wa-ouh! That's French for WOW! What a day I had! Mom had a ticket for a performance in the 11th arr. at a funky little theater called Le Main d'Or after the name of the passage it was located in. It was an easy but long Metro ride from our apartment so she decided she'd take a chance that she could get me in and loaded me up in the poussette. She said they might turn us away at the door, but she'd rather take a chance than leave me home alone all day.

The poussette is too wide to get through the turnstiles in the Metro, so you have to ask the ticket booth attendant to open the wide gate for you after you put your ticket in the turnstile. Well, there was no attendant the first time - just a note that said he would be back in "quelques minutes" - several minutes. In France, "quelques minutes" means the same thing as "deux pas" (two steps), or "des moments" (some moments). You don't take it literally. It means an indefinite, and usually long, length of time or distance. So Mom waved at a woman coming out - the exit doors are wider - and said, "Excusez-moi..." The woman held the out-door for us to get in, saving us some time as well as a Metro ticket.

The train came roaring in, people rushed out, people rushed in, the doors swooshed open and shut and the train started up with a hellish screeching of metal on metal as it swayed and jerked and jostled around the corners. I acted like I'd been doing this all my life. I just looked at Mom and she looked at me and I knew everything was as it should be. Besides, I was distracted by the woman sitting by me. She had a purse that smelled very interesting and I tried to get closer to it to give it a couple of good sniffs. Mom pulled me back, but she looked at Mom, smiled, and tapped her nose. Mom told her I was looking for something to eat. She smiled a broader smile and said I had a good nose because there WAS something to eat in her purse! I knew it!

When we got to the place we were going and got out of the train, there were the inevitable steps to navigate. Mom had a new plan - she took me out of the poussette and MADE ME WALK UP THE STAIRS! while she dragged up the poussette. She wasn't worried about jostling me out since I was already out so it was going bumpety-bump! There were a LOT of steps! She had to really urge me on up the last few. When we made it to the top she realized that while she had been encouraging me, a man had grabbed the other end of the poussette and had been carrying it up most of the last flight. How chivalrous!

We had the whole afternoon ahead of us, so we wandered here and there and soon discovered we were at an outdoor market - Marche d'Aligre - one of the biggest and noisiest in the city. It was very close to closing time for the vendors - some of the refrigerated trucks were already trying to make their way through the narrow, crowded street to load the produce (I wonder what they do with it after the market. Something to research.) and they were shouting out loudly, "Tout un euro!" "Everything a euro!" in a last-ditch effort to sell what they could in the final minutes. And the bargain hunters were buying what was left over to get a good price.

Everywhere we went we attracted attention and smiles. As Mom was looking in a display window, a Chinese woman actually came out of her closed shop to exclaim over me and my poussette. She was old and round-cheeked with laughing eyes and only a few teeth, but she loved me and wanted to know if the poussette was made especially for dogs. Mom told her yes, it was a poussette de chien. She was very chatty and had many questions about me and complimented me on my grooming. I think I must be the only dog in all of Paris with a poussette since it's such an attraction.

Mom decided to have lunch at Chez Paul, having read about it in various guidebooks. It was very busy which we took to be a good sign, but the lunch was disappointing, she said. She had confit of canard (duck leg) and fried potatoes which are supposed to be very garlicky, but they weren't.

Today's dogs of note: a very tall redbone hound in the subway accompanied by his very tall human, a boxer carrying his ball to ... where do you play ball in a city that allows dogs in restaurants but not in parks? A yorkie being carried in a front-pack.

After lunch we strolled down by the Port de l'Arsenal, a canal where pleasure boats are docked. It's a very pleasant place to walk (or in my case ride. Dogs aren't allowed to walk there, even on a leash.) because of the trellised pathways along the water. It would be easy to forget that you're in the middle of a city.

Finally, the time had come to arrive at the theater and find out if we were going in or going home. The performance was a one-man comedy in English (with French humor, the billing said) called, "How to Become Parisian in One Hour." A crowd was already forming near the door and just as we approached, the door was opened. Mom left me on the sidewalk while she scooted in past the startled people who were ahead of us to ask if she could bring me into the theater. After having the right answers to the questions about will he make noise, will he be a distraction to the audience or the performer, (she promised to leave if I made noise) we were granted permission to attend the performance. Can you believe it? I went to the theater! We got quite a few looks but everyone was friendly and I was so well-behaved I even let people pet me without shrinking away.
Other people might need tips on how to be Parisian, but I think I'M THERE!

Mom says I am an amazing dog!