This morning I was thinking about him again.
I often think of him. I cannot imagine him dead.
He was such a good dog...
He was so devoted to me that I was even ashamed that I
could not stop the rain when he looked at me begging me to do so.
I loved him and I still love him.
I crossed the Invalides bridge on my way to a restaurant near the Quai d'Orsay
where I used to eat at lunch.
I always try to get there early, this way you don't have
the impression that a bunch of people eat with you in your plate.
The restaurant owner, Monsieur Paul, is a nice and polite man.
He does his job well, he does not bother asking you if the food is good,
and he didn't have yet the silly idea to put neon lights everywhere.
How are you? - I'm fine, and you?
I'm fine, thnk you.
I think I'll take a mixed salad of cucumber
and tomato and stewed rabbit with chanterelles.
Alright, Mister. - And the pepper mill, please.
Alright.
On this day, just because I thought about my dog, I had lunch much later.
On the paper tablecloth, which absorbs ink well, and on which it is easy to write,
I started writing a story, a story that would have started like this.
Alain Delon
and
Elke Sommer
in the movie THE DOG
director Francois Chalais
No, that was later.
Before that there was everything else.
I felt good there.
Every evening at the same hour,
I got home, whistled my dog,
turned off the light after having learned from the newspapers
about all the troubles of the day,
and thought, "How good to be alive,
to live where I live and the way I want".
At first, I was surprised too that I could live here alone,
with the sole company of dog and books.
Paris is not very far.
But Paris is always far as long as a blade of grass grows between him and us.
Of course, sometimes it's great when a woman loves you.
But I have a dog.
It's for him that I'm here.
In the past, I resented him a little.
But he was so happy when he chewed these flat grass full of dust
that he preferred to all these well-kept lawns.
I was convinced that I could not live otherwise.
As a young man in love with a blonde woman is finally convinced,
as he wants to be faithful to her and as he is afraid to betray her,
that he cannot fall in love with a brunette.
Friends also came to see me and said: "At least you found the solution".
"You're the smartest".
This is one of my weaknesses. I always wanted to sound smart.
But somehow, all of a sudden, this very evening,
something strange happened to me.
I wanted to be silly.
To be frank it was not the first time.
Especially in the summer.
When night comes my friend had strange looks for my car.
This big car grinding from everywhere that I had bought just
because my dog could bite the cushions more comfortably in the back.
I looked at him as he looked at me.
Go!
Go home.
As if he said to me: "Isn't it better here?".
"You're going to spend money, when you have already so little. "
"You can't stand alcohol, but you will drink".
"You like to choose a woman on her merits, and you
will let yourself be chosen by the first one you meet".
I had always been able to refrain myself.
The next day, after a good night's sleep...
How I was happy! How we were happy!
Again, I had won over my instinct.
I was really a remarkable man!
If he had looked at me, I could have avoided the disaster.
But no. He was asleep.
He didn't care.
It's certainly not my fault.
What's wrong with you?
Nice dog.
No, you're not going anywhere.
No!
It's no use sulking!
What are you thinking?
You think I took off my shoes to try to escape in silence? It's not my style.
If I need to go, I will not ask your permission.
And the truth is, we end up becoming slaves to animals.
You see?
I'm not even trying. You wanted noise, there's noise.
I wouldn't do anything if I was listening to you.
Trust me, there is nothing interesting where I'm going.
And If I could resist...
You know what?
You would be very sorry afterwards if I took you with me.
Come on, be a good dog.
The good housekeeper.
I see. You want to come?
You want to take a walk with me?
I warn you. You will regret later.
Ok. Come on!
And your leash?
I wont carry it for you. Come on, take it with you.
Come on.
Yeah, the weather is pretty bad, old pal.
It was not too late still to go back.
I said to myself: "Tomorrow, I'll have regret".
But with these roads it's not easy to turn around!
Progress is nice but sometimes it's more inconvenient than useful.
The last option was to pretend I didn't know where I was going.
So, I played hide and seek with my desire.
Pigalle, the name itself annoys me when I hear it.
All the literature around it.
This tourist trap trying to compete with the Loires castles.
This web of gloomy streets, pretending to burst laughing.
This industry of pleasures that always seems to itch an old skin disease.
All this beauty that is beautiful only if you have renouced first to real beauty.
For a moment I thought I was saved.
It was the solution!
That's why I was there. There was nothing to be ashamed of anymore.
It was the sports luring me. And nothing else!
Just a glance inside, time enough to see muscles and scream a good shot.
Then again my house and my bed.
My former life.
If I only could park my car. Ah, to live in the country!
Come on, my good dog. It will serve us as a lesson.
Back home.
Unbelievable, a free place.
I'm sorry, old man.
But it is a sign of destiny.
And you have to respect destiny if you don't want to be cursed.
Would you like to have fun, sir? What a cutie.
As I often say: If only they could speak.
Actually I just wanted...
Otherwise it is impossible to park your car here, it's Mr. Noel's place, our boss.
But since you are an old customer...
But I am here for the first time. - I got it. Incognito. Go on, Mister.
I stay 5 minutes. Right? Only 5 minutes.
Ciao.
I'll look after him, I love animals and they love me. Do not worry.
Now just try to open your mouth!
Good evening, sir. Gutten Abend.
Buona Sera!
Maybe you speak French? - I handle it well enough.
We have a table left near the dance floor. For once
that we have a compatriot. And you'll see better.
I'm not shortsighted, you know.
All the tables are booked but... - I'm only in and out.
There we have the bar.
Good evening, sir. - Good evening.
Complicated... Mmmm... complicated...
Give me a... - Let me guess.
Monsieur probably wants an half-bottle of our special brand of Champagne?
And how much will it cost?
30 new francs plus tax. - Which tax?
Come on, sir, the taxes...
It's just that... - You won't regret it.
And the smell, sir! The smell.
Nevertheless we do not impose Champagne. People only accept because they want to.
We're not an establishment that forces its customers.
Maybe you would have prefered an orange juice?
And how much does it cost? - 30 new francs plus tax.
Everything is the same price. No surprise for you this way.
How do you find it? - Frank like a masquerade.
You're not going to stay alone all night long?
You know, I live far away and...
I'm not rushing you, but you know, the bar is so crowded that...
if you don't order again...
With all these charges.
The taxes! - I was going to say.
Would you like to order a glass for Miss Ginette?
While we're at it! - So...
A full bottle! A real one! To get a proper taste
of this very fine champagne.
A fine Champagne. Well corked.
This is good.
Неге...
Taste it.
I'm sorry but, you know, it's so hot in here.
Oh yeah? - They have the habit to overheat.
You want to know my thoughts?
I have enough with mine. - It's an exciting place here, you know.
Tonight you can't guess but if you had come yesterday...
Tonight of course it's more of a family atmosphere.
It's not that I'm bored but... - But for once that you're going out!
Precisely. I'm just not used to anymore.
I know, with all these events, people have not the heart to go out...
Tell me, what do you think about these events?
I think there are too many.
It's typical! No one dares saying his opinions in public anymore!
It's the proof that democracy collapses, you know!
It's a misery!
What would happen without this to comfort ourselves, huh?
Later, it will be a better show.
She's not that bad, but she's too snobish. People don't dig her.
If I tell you that... - Shut up!
Another feature of her: she always seems angry at people for coming to see her.
Who is she?
It's useless. She doesn't want. If she had listened to us
we would have given her a couple of useful tips, of course...
I don't like when I don't understand. - But she'll be back?
Never. She sings and... It's her last evening. Mr Noel sacked her.
She gave a bad conscience to our customers.
What will become of her? - Who knows?
We tried everything, even a striptease!
People were so constrained they didn't dare
look at her. They all left to make a phone all.
Wow! It's the first time that...
And the last. Fruit juice.
Мау I...
No, thank you. - Well, why not?
If it is from the heart...
I was busy explaining the Miss that... - I understand German.
You speak German? - No, but he was becoming tiresome.
I listened to you. It was great.
And now you will probably offer me a Middle-East tour...
It's already done. I leave tomorrow.
Why do you say that?
You got a problem?
I'm going with the appearances. And visitors coming
here are only interested in appearances. Not you?
Maybe not you...
Do you really like it or it was just a way to start a conversation?
Yes, I liked it.
You seemed so far away... but it seemed so close.
I cannot sing as I'm asked to sing.
I sing like I sang when I was a little girl. Psalm singing like we have at home.
Do you know?
I didn't expect to hear that here.
Is it also sung here in France? - I think. Well, I can't remember...
But it seems to me that it was always with me.
Are you German?
Is it serious?
I was just asking. Not reproaching.
Sorry, but when I sing, someone always says...
That's enough! They made enough noise during four years!
You know, people... - Don't tell me. Some Germans are fine.
Me for instance, during the occupation, with the deutschmark...
You find it hard to hear Germans?
Be honest: does it still hurt?
I was quite young. But no...
Don't imagine a thing like that. But yes...
It hurts me. It always hurted me.
I can't help.
Too much memories.
Even when I tried to tell myself that it was unfair.
You get used to it, huh?
You, on the other hand, you should not get used to it!
I thought it best to...
You do not think... - No, no.
I drank all this? What kind of game was I playing?
She probably did the same trick every evening
in cahoots with the bartender, of course.
And I went for it.
How much all this? - But don't go away!
How much?
480 new francs.
Maybe a last drink? It's on me. - No, thank you.
A real orange juice then? Not that stuff that ruins your stomach...
I still like the way you sing.
I would only like to know...
What?
Your... your name.
No.
In the street, I took a deep breath.
In the end, it could have been worse.
At least it was over.
Besides she didn't trapped me with her big blue eyes and
her way to point out that she was here by society's fault.
Why not my fault, while she was at it?
My car was waiting for me. Later I will be happy again.
I already was happy.
You need something else?
Hey! Where is he? - Who?
My dog!
I don't know. I walked away for a minute.
So, I had not only spent the most humiliating night of my life,
but I had also lost my dog.
And here on top of that! In this quarter where everything seemed to laugh at me.
Where there was no one I could have shared my sadness with.
You have waited for me!
It's you?
You are sick. Probably the bad champagne.
No. I lost my dog.
Your dog? - Yes.
He was back there.
Window doesn't close well. He probably pressed on it with his paws.
We'll find him.
We will.
I've been looking all night.
You should not hang around here.
This is the only place he knows in Pigalle. If he comes back...
Well, let's look for him, right?
You look different. - This is worse?
I was rude to you earlier.
When someon's too rough with me, I forget that I speak French.
It helps. - And how did you learn French?
By saying no to everyone!
Why would he come here? - We'll find him, I'm sure.
Let's go. If I stay here any longer I'll go crazy.
Thank you.
Неге we could almost feel well. - We feel well.
It's as if all belongs to us.
And in the afternoon there are children, all belongs to them.
Even the memories they keep for later.
My childhood memories...
It's only noise...
and smoke.
And my mom who tried to collect the scraps of an old piano,
in the ruins, to start the fire.
My memories are not better.
But you didn't wage war.
Sometimes it seems to me that I waged them all.
1870, 1914-1918.
No. My generation has failed at everything.
Even at wars.
The war in Spain. It's great when you're at the age of Hemingway or Malraux.
You can write an interesting book after that.
In 1940 I was 5 years old.
The Liberation for me, it was the distribution of chewing-gum
and cigarettes that I didn't even know how to smoke.
Indochina, Algeria.
Is it true that the war will start again? - There are rumours.
Too bad.
I liked the world where once a year the Lake Lochness
was a hotbed of human intelligence.
Where there was always a Bulgarian who reached the age of 160 years...
thanks to the yogurts.
This quiet world, for which the greatest danger was the reading of the newspapers.
You are here, and I'm here too.
Yes. There's a truce.
You can imagine the scandal? You and I, side by side.
If we were born 20 years before.
Our love is sentenced only with probation.
That's great.
For a love to be born there must be some trouble somewhere.
In the life of the warring nations or in the hearts of people
who love each other.
Suddenly everything was mixed up, as in a dream where when you
wake up you're unable to distinguish the beginning of the end.
What did I tell her? What did she say to me?
When I now try to remember I recall only fragments of sentences.
As fragments of a film for which they forgot to make a montage.
It's strange...
You are free, and me too.
Yes, people have always a lot of problems that
prevent them from being happy when they need it most.
You like to be alone? - No.
But I do not think I would be able to live with others.
Is it the same thing?
No woman yet has found favor in your eyes, right?
Women... - And they do not like you?
Women do not like us.
They love their love for us.
If we leave, they would not miss us.
They would miss the habit they had to love us.
You think so?
Let's say I need to think that.
What is it you dislike so much in love?
Duty to share?
Or duty to receive?
Share and receive. People often seem to carry a
balance to verify that they have not been robbed.
I love it when a man becomes a man and a woman stays a woman.
How old are you?
I have often asked myself, if I have any age.
Age is like a dress. There's a different one on every life's occasion.
I'm fine with you.
You do not even know me.
For me, people exist from the day I met them.
Especially women.
If we knew everything about the women we loved, how could we love them?
And if they knew everything...
Me too.
I'm fine with you.
You really need me?
I mean, that we walk,
that we eat, that we sleep,
that we wake up together?
Are you cold?
No.
I'm afraid. - Of what?
We're always a little afraid...
when we're too happy.
Now, whether we like it or not, we are bound to each other.
We already have a story.
Even if we part, there's already something left.
Something that no one will be able to erase.
I love you.
This is not fair.
It was up to me to say first.
I love you.
Me too. I love you.
I'm sorry if I said it awkwardly.
I did not tell anyone yet.
I kept it for special occasions.
Yes...
But why the hell, at this point, did I have to ask her that question?
And where were you born?
In Berlin.
Now it is East Berlin.
You already went there?
I was there once.
But it was long ago.
What's wrong with you? - Nothing.
When we returned to Berlin with my mother, houses began to build up brick by brick.
And I grew up with them, like a flower.
At the start we hunged pieces of paper
on the trees to say we had an old sweatshirt...
to trade against soap. And who had an apple was considered a rich man
All went awry in front of my eyes. I saw her but I no longer heard her.
I was in Berlin.
East, North, South, West? What was the difference
to me since at this time Berlin no longer made sense?
I was 9.
The shells fell all night long.
In the concentration camp I saw my father and mother for the last time.
They were lying on the ground, dead.
And I ran.
Three days later a Russian gave me chocolate.
An Englishman took me by the hand.
At this point I started to cry.
Неге's what Berlin is to me.
When I grew old enough to learn that all these
things existed, there was light everywhere.
In fact, I lived through a nightmare while making a beautiful dream.
My city had been stripped of everything
but I did not know that deprivation.
The city did not have music so that I could dance when my legs felt like it.
Enough!
Did you say something?
No.
Where have you been?
Now I'm here.
And for good.
I love you.
A Germany had just chased another.
Maybe it was not so bad that love made the job in my place.
Are you shaking?
I'll show you my house.
You want? - Uh-huh.
Come on.
Wait a minute. - What for?
You don't want to think more about it? - What is there to think about?
It wasn't true this story of a Middle East tour?
I had to sign this morning.
But this is madness! Don't you know what it means?
There was no other option for me.
Now there is.
Last night, my fate was decided. Heads or tails.
Either it was love, true love,
or it was death, the false death.
The one that leaves you with life to better give you the disgust of it.
Come on.
You know, your dog... I would like very much to meet him.
Then I do not know what got to me.
But why did she start talking about the dog?
It was not necessary.
He looked at me reproachfully.
After all, I was so happy when he was so sad.
It was absurd in the end.
What was I doing here in the cold of the morning with a stranger?
And especially this fact that cruelly twisted my heart:
I could not on the day where I had lost my only friend,
for which I was all, my dog,
I couldn't make love.
What's wrong with you? - Nothing!
I said something? - Not at all.
It's already over. - No!
You are right, we don't get into someone else's life this way.
Without warning, without saying who you are or
where you're from.
Or is it because I mentioned the dog?
No, I did not fall that low yet.
When I have something to say, I say it frankly.
Do not touch me.
I'll explain everything. You'll see, it's very simple.
Too simple. Indeed.
The girl you met in a bar,
begins to threaten your charming solitude.
If you take it like that. - I take it like that...
to help you run away.
Me running?
If you knew how much I could do for your happiness.
What's bothering you is not really that I'm unhappy.
What's bothering you is to think badly about yourself because of this.
I was a coward. Well, it's not really cowardice.
It's just that I'm not used to love.
Do you think that love is a habit?
That it can be learned? That it can be trained as a muscle or wealth...
for later?
Forget what I said.
One day, perhaps, you would think that I lost your dog on purpose.
To have you all to myself.
Come on.
Not anymore.
It's a stupid misunderstanding.
Give me a day or two.
To learn me? As a foreign language?
Lesson by lesson?
I'm sorry.
I know I'm causing you pain. I do not want that.
But it would be too unfair if I was the only one to be sad.
We'll see again?
Of course.
I'll drive you back. - Where to?
You know, it's very strange.
You still have helped me.
It is still great...
that for a moment I believed that love could exist.
I could have catch up with her, squeeze her tightly in my arms!
She was walking slowly.
Slowly!
As if she expected me to scream to make her stop.
How it would have been good.
In the car, I tried to convince myself that in the end it was better this way.
That it had to be better this way.
I had just healed from a disease that I previously thought to be incurable.
I was alone and suffered because I had lost a dog.
Not a woman. I limited the damage.
In this terrible defeat of the night I had still won a victory.
Then, all happened as in a dream.
The Church...
The last houses...
The last bend...
And then!
Rex!
Of course. He ran all the way.
All the way from Pigalle.
To get to the place where he was sure to find me.
My house.
Our home. Oh, my dog!
My dog.
I love you.
So, I turned back towards Paris.
Towards her. Why didn't I tell her my name?
I'll never know hers.
She couldn't understand.
Maybe you, you understand?
For him, the story ended.
But for me?
translation: aloysius70 (c) 2013 proofread & timings fixes: InvincibleBG