French dogs

They’re around, as one might expect.

There are some teensy things seen in ridiculous outfits and all you can think of when you see them is why they haven’t been squashed yet. Not in any malicious way, but they are so tiny and seemingly a bit vapid. A rat of the same size, although many are probably bigger, at least has some heft, solidity and cunning about it. These dogs, not so much.

But I shouldn’t hard on the poor little dogs, there are similar freaks in purses and on frilly pink leashes all over the world.

Homeless people here seem to have far more dogs than back home. But not all the homeless have the same air of desperation about them either and there are a number of degrees and varieties that as I’m typing this I realize I might want to give some more thought to, or at least look into seeing if anyone else has done as much. There seems to be a lot of younger people that seem to live ‘homeless’ as a lifestyle. They have a look, a way of dressing and acting that extends between various groups. They’ve made a choice, and living with a big pack just happens to be their thing. But this is about dogs…

Homeless people and dogs, YES! I even saw one fellow, at least I assume there was someone hidden in the sleeping bag, that had too dogs, one of whom was busily nursing a litter. Making it more than two. I’ll try to stop lying.

As for walking the dogs, it’s a slightly different dynamic here. Many more dogs seem to be walked sans leash, and they are generally well behaved so no complaints. It’s the owners that might need some training, at least in the cross-cultural Canadian manners sense.

Someone here thinks people need to pick up their dogs’ leavings as there are posts with bag dispensers about. “Let’s keep Rodez beautiful!” indeed. But judging by my feet and the close calls I go through on a daily basis, the advice is not always heeded.

As part of a unique dog culture, at least in Rodez, there are a number of small enclosures about designed for a dog to visit and do its duty. No bigger than 2 metres squared with a pole in the middle for piddle, they are surrounded by a solid post fence, lending an air of privacy. The fence is high enough that from a distance you can’t see what’s going on. Instead all you see is a person standing at enclosure’s opening, hands in pockets, slowly rocking back and forth just watching their dog *ahem* finish up.

I assume there is some municipal employee whose main task is to tidy up these pens. Nice.