Plus je connais les hommes, plus j'aime mon chien

That was the response of the tough looking, brook no-nonsense waitress when I asked whether it was all right for Charlie to come inside: the more I know humankind, the more I love my dog. She then promptly returned with a bowl of water for him before asking the rest of our group what we wanted to drink.

It's no secret -- the French love their dogs, as well as any other visiting canine, it seems.

Charlie has now been to many restaurants, indoor and out, and, as you can see from the photo to the right, the best part about restaurants is the taste of the delicious morsels of food that drop, intentionally or not, onto the floor.

I knew that Charlie would be welcomed in France, but I didn't anticipate the extent to which he'd be adored. As Jeff used to say about the days when we pushed Luke around in a baby stroller, walking with Charlie is like walking with a mini-celebrity. It helps that the French tend to have smaller dogs so that Les Goldens are a bit of a rarity. Luke is reading Steinbeck's Travels with Charley at the moment. It happens that Steinbeck's dog's formal name is Charles le Chien (a French poodle) who also shares in common with our Charlie, "a roar like a lion designed to conceal the fact that he couldn't bite his way out of a cornet de papier." But what we can really relate to is how much Steinbeck's Charley helped forge a bond between the author and the people he met on his cross-country trip through America. Similarly, our Charlie has been a wonderful conversation starter. The first words from a hesitant mother whose eager child is reaching for Charlie tend to be, "Est-il gentil?" Is he gentle (literally, kind)? Before I can reassure, Charlie is pressing up against the asker and wagging his tail enthusiastically.

Perhaps his finest hour came on the TGV from Cannes to Paris. Dogs are allowed on the train as long as they tuck under your chair. Well, Charlie didn't really fit under the chair but he was happy to lounge in the middle of our group. (It would have been trickier if we hadn't had the entire foursome to ourselves - we'll have to buy him a seat when just the three of us are traveling.) There were a number of French children who were both fascinated and frightened of him. Finally, one of the small boys darted a hand out to touch Charlie's nose. Charlie immediately stood up and started wagging which scared the boy away. But he came back, with his friends, and soon Charlie was in the middle of aisle surrounding by happy French children chattering away about le gros chien.

From the gardien with his petite, petite Fifi to the woman down the street with her miniature poodle, and the masses of students at Luke's school, everyone loves Charlie.

Plus ils aiment mon chien, plus j'aime les Francais!