By Mojo, the distinguished Labrador
Bonjour, mes amis.
Well… we did it. Charlie and I have officially crossed the Atlantic and arrived in Paris, France. Quite the ordeal, really. I must say, international travel is not for the faint of heart—or the faint of bladder, as we quickly discovered (more on that in a moment).
Our journey began in a chaotic human hub called an arrpurt (spelling uncertain—humans are notoriously inconsistent). It was crowded, loud, and filled with the smell of stress and stale pretzels. Naturally, we were treated like cargo—placed in what the humans cheerfully call kennels, but I assure you, they were glorified holding cells.
Now, as a distinguished gentleman of nine years with excellent bladder control and a strong sense of personal dignity, I held it together. Charlie, on the other hand—sweet, simple Charlie—completely lost it. Quite literally. In the chamber. Honestly, I was mortified.
Once loaded into a deafening metal sky-tube, we were stashed in the belly of the beast with the luggage. It was cold, it was dark, and frankly, I’m drafting a strongly worded TripAdvisor review as we speak. One star. Would not recommend.
Eventually, we landed—rather dramatically, I might add—and after what felt like an eternity, Mom appeared like a glorious angel and rescued us from our rolling prisons. I didn’t cry, but I did let out a very dignified sigh of relief.
Then came a car ride, followed by waiting at a place called a stashin (again, I question the spelling), where we prepared to board something called a train. While waiting, I was relentlessly taunted by the local pigeons—foul, winged goblins that have no respect for my stature. I loathe them.
On the train, I naturally attempted to lie down in the center aisle, so that all passengers could admire my form and appreciate my journey. Apparently, that was “inconvenient.” Can you imagine? Me? Inconvenient? The nerve.
Anyway, we’ve made it to a lovely region called Normandy. There are curious smells, and cheese—magnifique cheese. I will be dedicating the next few days to its full exploration.
More updates to come. For now, I must resume my rightful place beneath the dinner table, where I shall silently but powerfully beg for more of this exquisite Brie.
À bientôt,
Mojo 🐾
(World Traveler, Cheese Connoisseur, Victim of Airline Injustice)
Leave a Reply