Being French

 I often get asked questions such as, what is it like to be French, after growing up in England?

The answer is that the food is the same, as my mum gets the same formula food here (and I need it for a little skin condition)  but apart from that, everything is different and great here!

There are so many more smells in France, and I also have more friends - in England all my friends are just dogs (from mostly the same group in the field we all go to there), but here I am also friends with ponies, donkeys, sheep, cows, goats and even cats (as felines here are much less skittish). There are about 5,000 kms of chemins (country paths) in the region around where we live so I get plenty of chances to meet new friends quite often, almost every time my dad or mum takes me to some new chemin and we wander across some new woods or fields. There are also two French bulldogs who come here with their mum several times a year to stay in the building - and we usually have a grand old time together even though they can be a bit too boisterous for me. French bulldogs are very strong for their size but they do not know it - so they just bounce around over everyone and everything.



My dad often takes me up an ancient hill for my daily walks, mainly because I make him take me there - and that is because there is so much interesting wildlife that wanders by every day there, so I really love sniffing around this place. The hill is really old because there is a dolmen there which dates from up to 7,000 years ago - a dolmen is a megalithic structure erected by pre-historic humans as either some sort of burial chamber or as a huge altar to some unknown spirits from the distant past. I cannot smell any bones around the dolmen so it must be an altar, although my dad tells me it is highly likely the bones were removed a long time ago by erosion or perhaps even wild animals. The word dolmen is quite interesting as it was first coined by a man called Théophile Malo Corret de la Tour d'Auvergne - the village Tour d'Auvergne is in my region but there is no sign that Théophile ever went there as he seemed to have just adopted the surname from a distant relative. Nevertheless, he was one of France's bravest ever soldiers and when he was killed at the Battle of Neuberg on 27 June 1800, Napoleon proclaimed that Théophile's name shall be called out at French military parades to honour the man's courage - this is still done even today by the 46th French Regiment whenever they are on show. Interestingly, Théophile also brought the word menhir into use, a word used to describe huge single stones erected as some sort of spiritual symbol which pre-historic people worshipped. I admire him as he was a very learned antiquarian (or someone who likes to study ancient history) when he was not fighting battles.

There is a very old church in our village dating back to the 12th century - but I cannot smell any bones in the crypt in there either. My dad just said the tombs were very well sealed and therefore I cannot smell the bodies.

The air is much cleaner here in France, and it may be because we are now living in the countryside at an altitude of 700 metres whereas we were not much above sea level back in England -  but it may be that the air in England is simply dirtier as we lived not far from London. The clean air here helps my breathing a lot and also seems to create beautiful sunrises and sunsets.


So although I do not mind going back to England, I really do like it here. And the tidbits under the table taste really good too!

Pof the Pug



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