The New Chanel Model

Anyway, Nicole and I hardly need horrid old winter coats hiding our beauty ....

No Coat

It's not funny Uncle Claude! Buy me a coat - now!

When we woke up yesterday - the snow had arrived! Our garden was white and the weather was quite freeeeeezing. So it was to my Mum's intense surprise, when I didn't seem too reluctant to trot down the road for a coffee with her and my uncle Claude. Sure it was a little chilly on a girl's paws but I was stepping out in high hopes of obtaining at least part of a tartine (buttered baguette! yum yum) once we arrived at the cafe; (I had my best pleading eyes on) but it wasn't just that. Truth to tell, I was admiring all the cute little coats that my canine compatriots were wearing in this new brisk weather. It seemed the snow had brought out the latest styles in the fashion-conscious pups of Paris, and every pup I passed had his or her new winter coat on. All sorts of coats. Some beautifully trimmed in fake fur; some no-nonsense Gortex forty-below-Arctic-condition types (generally worn by stocky little French bulldogs); little beige trenchcoats... A perky white Westy in his light blue anorak; a pretty black poodle trotting by in her striking red parka; yes it was a pleasing sight to see that every dog had his coat.

And then - it hit me..... I was entirely naked! No smart new coat adorned my own back! No coat at all. I twisted round, in a moment of shame; trying to get a good look at myself, as if just by looking I could will a little fake fur leopard print number into existence. But it was no good. My back remained stubbornly unadorned by anything more than what Nature had graced me with at birth. And as every Parisenne -canine or otherwise - knows; that is hardly enough! I was shamed! How can a girl show her face again in our street. I think I might sulk for a year.

And do you know what my Mum did later that afternoon after our coffee, cakes and tea (and more tea) with Uncle Claude. Can you guess? Can you? Oh yes, I think you have done. Yes, she went out and bought herself a new coat.

The Princess and the Centime

Now I'm a pup who likes her creature comforts. I mean all these little Parisian dogs that look positively brisk as they pound the pavement by their human's side. Hhmm I mean a lovely run in the Bois de Boulogne or a nice stroll to the cafe followed by an hour or two lolling under a table, or chasing up crumbs from nearby tables, is one thing, but pavements can get hard on a girl's paws afer a while and be downright damp on occasion. So...when the whim takes me I have a great little plan for avoiding further pavement pounding. I go for the embarrassment angle. My mum can get quite selfconcious so it works a treat! I simply collapse down on my tummy, chin to the ground, and gaze up beseechingly at my mum. She tries to get me to my feet; and when I continue to simply gaze sadly up at her, she lifts me on to my paws. I flop down. She lifts me. I go into my ragdoll routine. She lifts me again, all the while trying to use that stern tone of voice that Auntie Gabrielle tought her. Hah! So people begin to look. Some smile as they walk by. But worse some start to look concerned. ' Il est fatigue ce chien??" a worried lady enquires. My mum assures her that I'm not too fatigued at all, that I am just ' capriceuse" . Hhhmph!! My mum starts to get embarrassed. " They'll think I abuse my dog, Cherry! she says now please!!" I'm still flat out on the pavement, gazing up. Any minute now she'll lift me in her arms just to avoid the embarrassment. Ha I'm a master at this!

So the other day, Mum was again at a loss. She'd tried sternness, her pretend-angry voice, pleading and " look look over there! Cherry! It's Auntie Gabrielle! Let's go!!" I've heard this one before and this time I know it's a ruse! . Determined not to pick me up it seems, yet unwilling for further dragging me along on my tummy, Mum sinks down to her haunches and goes sinto a little reverie by my side. She's like that for some time, gazing at the shops on the opposite side of the street, the people passing by when out of the corner of her eye, she sees that someone is approaching closer than they should... And suddenly a hand in front of her at eye level, outstretched and open with a couple of little golden coins - ten centime pieces proffered. Oh no no monsieur she stammers, struggling to her feet. " Non merci, vous etes gentille!" " No thanks, you're kind!" There's a lot of people sitting in the streets begging in our neighbourhood, sometimes with their dogs ; but I guess my mum just didn't see that she and I were doing quite a good impression of being one of them

Shame she refused really! My mum wandered homeward, (I decided to cooperate) reflecting on the little kindnesses inherent in the human species - an old retired guy looking quite poor himself offering what little he could spare... Me: " oh mum you should have taken it! You could always buy treats for me!"

And there's alway the doggie bag mum!!