A Diplomatic Dog in Paris
From Chicken Soup for the Soul: The Magic of Dogs
By Anne Gruner

A dog can express more with his tail in seconds than his owner can express with his tongue in hours.
~Author Unknown

I cannot think of Bucky without remembering Paris, and I cannot remember Paris without thinking of Bucky. Many years ago, when my husband and I were assigned as diplomats to the American Embassy in Paris, we worried about whether our shy, seventy-pound Golden Retriever Bucky could transition from his quiet suburban back yard to the hubbub of a big city. Bucky did fine, however. More than fine. Back then, dogs were considered royalty in Paris.

Bucky easily ensconced himself in our home in Neuilly, a tree-lined hamlet on the western edge of Paris. The Embassy provided the house, which came with Asunción, a housekeeper from Barcelona who spoke French with a Spanish accent, and her mature female cat Mignon. Bucky had no French and zero experience with cats. But he rubbed noses with Mignon, and they became fast friends. Asunción taught him dog French: assis = sit, couche = down, viens = come. In return, Bucky gave Asunción a "new leash on life," an excuse to promenade outdoors with the denizens of Neuilly. (Previously, she had tried to walk Mignon on a leash, but the feline refused to be tethered.) (Keep reading)