My sister, Heidi, will be participating in a march for breast cancer. She
is walking on behalf of our mother, Jules, our Aunt Charmly, and
Tante Marie-Françoise who are breast cancer survivors. Please check out
Heidi's progress (at http://no-cancer.notlong.com ) in
raising funds for breast cancer research… and maybe pitch in a few dollars,
whatever you can, while you're there? Mille mercis.

veinard,e (veh-narh,
veh-narhd) noun, masculine, feminine

    : lucky dog, lucky
devil

[from the French "veine" (vein), from the Latin
"vena"]

adjective:
lucky

Audio File: listen to the French word veinard and veinarde: Download veinard.wav. Download veinard.mp3

by Kristin Espinasse

When our golden retriever went into heat last month, I learned a
thing or two about her romantic heart. En bref,* Braise is no uptown
girl.

This all became clear the day a toothless bâtard* came calling. The
scruffy, unemployed chien* might have been missing an eye, for all I know
(barroom brawl?)… that untamed black mop on his head made it hard to
tell.

"Mr. Black Dog," as my mom affectionately called him, was hardly
taller than Braise's ankles. But that didn't disqualify him… from putting a
bun in the oven.

"Mais, chéri," Jean-Marc chuckled, trying to reason
with me, "nothing will happen. It's impossible!"

Locking the front
door and latching the shutters, I was, once again, struck by my husband's
naiveté.
"Oh, you'd be surprised!" I snapped back, eyeing our tattered
trespasser, whose wet nose was pressed up against the
porte-fenêtre.*

"Va-t-en!"* I shouted, from behind the window. "Allez!
Oust!"*

I tried to see the positive side of an eventual "accident":
Labradoodles!* Tried, that is, until Jean-Marc confirmed that the small black
dog with the curly black mop on its head was NOT a caniche.*"

For two
weeks straight, bright and early each morning — a flurry of chicken feathers
in his wake (and complaints from the hens who had begun their
day-long "puttering and pecking" through the grapevines) — Mr Black Dog left
the neighboring farm, took a shortcut across the bright yellow mustard field,
past Monsieur Delhomme's potager (now teeming with pumpkins), and arrived at
our kitchen door… the happy-go-lucky "bachelor" limping like a poivrot*
all the way.

His legs were so short he barely needed to lift one to leave
his mark, and leave his mark he did (sprinkling little "forget-me-nots" all
over the front yard). Braise was lovesick and all but fluffed her hair and
powdered her own wet nose at the first glimpse of that unemployed
underdog.

We did our best to keep the dogs separated; after all, we had
plans of our own…

Samuel de Vichyssoise, a.k.a. "Sam", (a "blue-blooded" golden
retriever and our "arranged suitor") eventually arrived, having traveled all
the way from his aristocratic flat on the Rue de Paradis in
Marseilles.

But things didn't go at all as planned… and we were
dumbstruck by our golden girl's ghastly welcome: Braise sneered. Braise
jeered. The golden boy, to our "girl," was no more than a stuffy "Earl". It
seemed Braise's heart was agog for none other than the toothless, limping
underdog.

And now, as all soap operas must end with a cliffhanger… I'll
let you in on a secret. Just when we thought our dog had done away with the
"Earl of Marseilles" (for the purposes of this story, we'll allow a British
earl into this French fable)… it seemed the two had disappeared… into a
stack of hay. Oh, dear!

The only question now is "a-t-elle une brioche au
four?"* and, if so, WHO is the virile veinard?*

***
PS: My
apologies for not having a photo of Mr. Black Dog. For now, enjoy "Braise's
Sneer" (photo number one) and "Braise's Happy (at last) Cavalier" (photo
number two). Click to enlarge photo.

Comments, corrections,* conseils… welcome in the comments box.

*Thank you, Judith Urbanek, for the grammar help (re: my "vas-t-en"). See Judith's message at the end of this post.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~References~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
en
bref = briefly; bâtard(e) = mutt; le chien (la chienne) = dog; la porte-fenêtre
(f) = French window; allez! oust! = go on! get out of here!; poivrot(e) =
drunk, wino; labradoodle = a labrador-poodle mix
update: make that a "goldendoodle";
un caniche (m) = poodle; avoir une brioche au four = to have a bun in the
oven; veinard(e) (mf) = lucky dog

"avoir un p'tit pain dans le
four"
"être en cloque"
"avoir le ballon"
"avoir le gros
ventre"
"avoir un polichinelle dans le tiroir"

The
Complete Pepin: Techniques and Recipes (DVD)
In
music: Paris' Most Beautiful Songs
Made
in Provence: Savon et Cie Bath Salts: in calm/soothing lavender
French
Alphabet Blocks — complete with letters, numbers and animal pictures
Words
in a French Life: Lessons in Love & Language

A Little Grammar Lesson in French and English:
(Sharing with you a letter that I received from Judie)