FRENCH WORD-A-DAY

Ricci totally ignores the words "marcher" and "nager" (walk and swim). Her favorite words are English: "cookie," "Grandma," and "Jackie." More about favorites in today's story. Thank you for reading and sharing this post with a dog lover.

TODAY’S WORD: l’épanouissement

   : blossoming/flourishing; fulfillment

Un chien trouve son épanouissement dans les petites joies du quotidien, tout comme nous trouvons le nôtre en partageant ces moments avec lui.

A dog finds its fulfillment in the small joys of everyday life, just as we find ours in sharing those moments with them.

A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE by Kristi Espinasse

Ricci is about to turn four, and it is remarkable how much she has enriched our lives since she bounded into our home from a remote barn in central France. What began as a leap of faith has evolved into a profound complicité—one that makes me confront an unexpected dilemma: the deep, sometimes surprising love I feel for Ricci compared to the affection I had for our previous dogs. It feels almost taboo to even talk about un chien favori when you’ve had two lovely dogs before her. As I process these feelings, I wanted to take a moment to honor our rescapée on this, the week of her birthday.

I still can’t believe how lucky we are to have this beautiful, funny, stubborn, and adorably clumsy American Shepherd as our new family dog. Jean-Marc and I regularly remark: “It’s a good thing I found her!” While we enjoy teasing each other, the uncomfortable truth is Ricci’s fate was decided by a flip of the coin. Heads, we bring home this unknown, possibly problematic dog. Tails, we leave her…to her fate. I couldn't bear the thought of that. The decision was quickly made! 

To think I ever had doubts about how it would all work out the day we collected Ricci from a dog, cow, and cannabis farm in Auvergne. The owner was phasing out the puppy side of her business, and that’s how we ended up bringing home this blue-eyed mama. Strangely, she did not resist as we carried her away without a leash, a collar, or even the slightest idea of who we were and where she was going. Throughout the 5-hour ride home she was silent, barely moving from my lap, which soon became a pool of drool from her unspoken stress.

She perked up upon arrival! In those early days, our adoptee was so unpredictable: she tried to escape, trembled for weeks, growled at other dogs, nipped at family members, and peed all over our home. To top it off, she had the most offensive breath—haleine so bad it rivaled les Epoisses de Bourgogne, one of the stinkiest cheeses in France.

Then there was her prénom, which was difficult for me to pronounce (I've never been good at rolling those French "r"s. I thought to change her name, but given how disoriented she was, it didn't seem like a good idea).

Despite the negatives, we saw Ricci ("RRREE-CHEE") for what she was, a displaced dog who, once we earned her trust, would get better. Around that time a reader named Lin shared the "3:3:3 Rule" for rescue dogs: in three days, she would become familiar with her new surroundings, in three weeks she'd be comfortable with her environment, and in three months she'd feel secure and set in her routine. I hung on to this promise as our newest family member progressed through the various étapes. With every day that passed, we watched Ricci slowly blossom from a skittish, uncertain dog into a confident, affectionate companion. The first time her little nub of a tail wagged (you had to look closely because her queue had been docked), the moment she finally slept through the night, the day she jumped into my lap—each of these was a sign that the 3:3:3 Rule was working. It was a gradual transformation, but each step was a victory, for Ricci and for us.

Just when things were coming together, there was a crisis. Ricci panicked after a sudden bruit at the farmers market and ran off. During the chase, with Ricci fleeing beside traffic, our short life together flashed before my eyes: all the progress she'd made, all the trust we'd built...only for her to be running away when she needed me most!

When finally she landed in my arms, saved by the quick action of a few locals, I wasn't about to let her go again. It took weeks before I began to trust her. I learned our little Houdini could wiggle right out of her harness as she did when Jean-Marc brought her to the dock, to wait for him while he worked on his boat. 

Eventually, we felt confident enough to give her some slack while strolling along the boardwalk. She's gradually adapting to le grincement of delivery truck doors, the pop! of a deflating paddle board, and the whir and grumble of the big, bad streetcleaner truck.

These days she leaps with joy onto our couch (sometimes slamming into the side of it, completely unharmed if aerodynamically challenged...) where she eventually settles in the curve of my legs to fall asleep. I love her so much I could burst. "Mom," I say, seated next to Jules, Ricci cuddled in between us. "I... I think she is my favorite dog." I could only admit this to my own Mom, as saying it to anyone else seems taboo. It would be as shocking as choosing a favorite kid.

We sit in silence, stroking Ricci, remembering our beloved golden retriever, who passed away two summers ago. "I think Smokey picked Ricci out for us," I whisper. The idea is comforting and takes away some of the guilt I feel for loving Ricci so much. Suddenly, I am reminded of the day I realized I loved Smokey more than our first dog, Breizh...I remember feeling bad about that, too!

I’ve come to realize that with each new dog, my heart has grown bigger, not because one dog is better than the other, but because each has taught me to love more deeply. As someone once said: Un nouveau chien ne remplace jamais un vieux chien, il ne fait qu’agrandir le cœur.  A new dog never replaces an old dog, it only enlarges the heart. 

Seeing Ricci’s (and our own) épanouissement over the past year has only reinforced this truth. No wonder my heart is bursting with love. Joyeux Anniversaire, Ricci, et merci!

***

Jean-Marc's boat, a 1925 pointu, is the first one on the left. 

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FRENCH VOCABULARY

Click here to listen to Jean-Marc pronounce the French words below

la complicité = the bond/connection
le chien favori = favorite dog
un(e) rescap(é)e = a rescue dog 
l'haleine (f) = the breath
les Epoisses de Bourgogne = Epoisses cheese from Burgundy
le prénom = first name
les étapes = the stages
la queue = the tail
le bruit = noise
le grincement = the creaking
Un nouveau chien ne remplace jamais un vieux chien, il ne fait qu’agrandir le cœur = A new dog never replaces an old dog, it only enlarges the heart
l’épanouissement = the blossoming/flourishing
Joyeux Anniversaire, Ricci, et merci! = Happy Birthday, Ricci, and thank you!

REMERCIEMENTS 
A heartfelt thank you to the following readers who recently made a donation to this journal. Your support is deeply appreciated. Merci beaucoup! — Kristi

Sally B.
Ingrid S.
Cerelle B.
Martha S.
Phoebe E.
Pamela H.
Michele C.
Richard H.
Robinelle C.

Love from your Phoenix friend! --Cerelle B.

Merci, Kristi! Vos pensées sont toujours intéressantes et utiles. --Phoebe E.

Just love your style of writing and meaningful missives! They can easily connect with one’s life and provoke thinking more deeply. It is especially nice to connect often with the South of France, I love France so much! Bon Soir! --Ingrid S.