Maman had me 14 years ago and named me Olive and then Maman being Maman and sometimes frankly a bit loopy dans la tete, she added an H to my name. Thus OhLive!
Her initials are L.V and if you say that out loud you get ElleVie which means She Lives. So when she decided to name me Olive, a friend said to her: “Oh thats like Elle Vie…Oh Live!” I realize this may be too complicated for some of you. And Oh live, yes I do!
I am tri-lingual, French, English and Doggie and nothing short of scrumptiously beautiful and of a breed that no one knows or has seen here in this new place Portland, Oregon.
Pyrenean Shepard, I am.
The attention I get here is very gentil but really I need to train people to always have cookies on them. I can’t be expected to be interested and cordial to everyone who wants to caress my fur.
Unless of course they want to scratch my behind.
I admit that I do not mind the adoration. I am très jolie as well as très smart, so it is warranted. Quite unique in these parts I am. They don’t seem to have ever seen the likes of moi here. So wherever I go, I am the centerpiece. I admit to being a bit of a snob . After all, I am a Parisienne. Maman is the bitchy one.
To return to matters of import. I have several adoring fans on the rue Caulaincourt.
Maman loves all dogs in all sizes, shapes, mixes and is constantly interrupting our walks when we pass any dog, even the most displeasing to the eye.
Sometimes I have to yelp at her, she is often on all fours (embarrassing for me) and a bit of hysteria on my part is frankly warranted.
At times my bark breaks and I sounds like a Yorkshire. This is embarrassing to me and to Maman who looks at me in horror but it usually gets her moving.
By the way, I have nothing against yorkies as long as they keep it shut, la bouche.
Maman moved us here to Portland Oregon from Paris as the funds ran out and frankly the fun too as I was getting quite bored with the leashed French pampered lot.
I, of course had style AND status in Montmartre as I was never on a leash (quelle horreur !) and always had a scent about me that induced paroxysims and high pitched yelps from several of the leashed bitches we passed daily. Jealousy is not an attractive trait in a doggie.
Maman and I went for daily scooter rides (not a favorite) to the Bois de Boulogne and its lake where as soon as Maman had her back turned I would perfume myself.
Duck doodoo is a scent I would highly recommend. I would post a sniff link but somehow that is not yet possible.
I have never understood why Maman is not in agreement and often raises her voice at me interrupting my perfuming abolutions.
I never bark or interrupt her beautifying preparations when she is doing spa activities so I do not understand. Unfair. I perfume myself just like she does and sometimes I roll to add texture to my look. Nothing more normal.
Passing up free perfume is like not browsing the cosmetics counter at Le Bon Marche
Anyway, Maman is busy feeding the corneilles with food that should be going into MY mouth and she will actually get mad at me when I want to eat it too. Imagine, MY food. Several eat directly from her hand. My food, My Maman’s hand, their beaks… I am losing weight just thinking about this.
It is a good thing that the white Corneille poop perfume is also a favorite. And there frankly, Maman has nothing to say; she is too busy betraying me.
By the time we scoot back to Montmartre, my smell is scrumptious and my status unequaled on the rue Caulaincourt.
Maman is truly bizarre but how I love her, I will count the ways, but might induce a yawn for you and it would be contagieux for me, and right now I am not ready for my nap.
I was quite famous in my Montmartre as you can see…
Why Portland, you ask?
Maman played darts with a map of les États Unis 🇺🇸 and that’s how we landed here, knowing no one with our 6 monster suitcases and me being as emotionally supportive to Maman as my fluorescent orange vest allowed.
Maika our bestie, was pushing two caddies with 3 monster bags that were quite perfectly balanced (but then again she is of the German organized lineage).
While Maman’s lineage is less organized, the bags in her caddie kept toppling over.
Maman is a bit bordélique
We need a maid. 🎶a doggie needs a maid🎶 . Most of you are too young to remember this song but we are not .
We were moving to an Airbnb in Portland for the first two weeks with enough money to survive 3 months.
Call Maman kookoo I prefer to think of her as a wild adventuress.
I have flown before but never in an airplane.
The flight was absolutely packed and we got on last as Maman doesn’t like to be herded even though of course that is in my genes. Bergère des Pyrénées you know!
We had a window seat and as we started approaching our seat Maman’s face may have displayed a slight demented edge.
I was quite used to it but others maybe not so.
The woman seated next to us said:
“You two look like you need to be together comfortably” and off she went to find the last middle seat somewhere on the plane.
I certainly hope that nice woman did not have to spend the next 13 hours in les toilettes.
A woman Maman had met on Facebook offered to pick us up at the Airport. Wow. Now somehow I cannot imagine a French Poodle making such an offer. Maman spilled tears of gratitude and quickly accepted. Maman cries easily and often and then laughs. I love ma Maman. It is a good thing I am here. I find them quite tasty, the tears. That femme and her husband were waiting for us when we arrived. We recognized them easily. Something about American fashion. They also had a very large voiture. Thank Dog!
Our Airbnb place had a nice garden and a nice porch. Such greenery and smells, j’adore!
And the flowers…Everywhere! My nose went into overdrive.
The people we encountered were very nice, the methods of adornments a bit different than what we were used to in Paris.
At the local supermarket we met a very nice man and he truly loves his dog.
I am trying to persuade Maman that she needs my image on her neck. I don’t understand why she is not more excited about this idée ?
The nature here is formidable ! (click to hear one of my ❤ songs)
And many watering and swimming spots and places to be moi dans toute ma splendeur !
When we moved here we were told it hardly ever snowed in Portland. But we LOVE snow! And so it snowed, and snowed…
In Portland we were finally able to be ourselves, Maman et moi.
Moi, in complete simplicity, I came out of the closette. And Maman, well Maman she just continued to be étrange.