Today was (still is, it's early yet) market day. Bisou, who'd up till now received indifference and glares from locals just trying to pass us to get to one of the many H&Ms in peace, was a real hit in this more rustic setting. A woman selling flowers really took to her, and the feeling was mutual, especially once this woman suddenly emerged with treats in the form of sausage.
As living-the-dream as it is to go to a European market with a miniature poodle, it's probably not the most efficient method of grocery-shopping. This isn't a farmers' market with only local kale and turnips, so in principle it would be possible to buy all your food at it, but when you're multitasking and trying to socialize your dog in a language you yourself don't understand (whatever I learned last time must be relearned), you forget to pick up everything you set out to. As problems go, this is probably the absolute best one to have. The apartment we're staying in has a dishwasher. No complaints, seriously.
Wednesday, July 18, 2012
Pudel adventures
The cars are smaller in Europe. Pictured is my dream vehicle.
Living the dream: Eiskaffee and (temporarily) serene lap-dog.
Dog "parking" at a rare non-dog-friendly establishment, a bakery.
A cheese-and-sausage stand. Why they invented leashes.
Posted by Phoebe Maltz Bovy at Wednesday, July 18, 2012
Labels: der schrecklichen franzosischen Pudel, dreams of my dishwasher
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