Editors Note: Former Westporter Suzy Gershman is now living in Paris with her dog rescued from the Westport dog pound. The dog is featured on the cover of her new book, “C’est la Vie.” But there’s some background information on the pooch missing, as explained below.
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By Samantha Joe Cocker Spaniel
Special to WestportNow
PARIS—Don’t cry for me Argentina.
In fact, don’t cry for me Fairfield County.
Instead, cheer for me please, shout bravo and tell me, one more time, what a good dog I am.
I used to be a regular Westport bitch, but now I am French.
You may have given me up for glue, but now I am on the cover of a hardback book called “C’est la Vie,” by Suzy Gershman (also from Westport) and published by Viking Press.
Please buy this book, take a good hard look at me (I do look small on the cover, its true) and get in touch. No recriminations, no barking, but I have needs too.
For whatever your reasons, you left me in The Pound in Westport in late September or early October of 2001.
The people at The Pound were very nice, but frankly, I was at death’s door. And the food wasn’t great either. Someone was just about to call out Dead Dog Walking.
Then suddenly, like on a television show about miracles, I was not only rescued, but stuffed into a kennel and flown overseas.
One day it was bleak concrete and dog chow; the next I was in the City of Light, nestled on a silk setee while a white-coated waiter brought me water in a silver bowl.
I have had a rather perfect life in this land of dog-lovers and don’t miss the old life too terribly much. Potically speaking, I stand (all four legs) with Jacques Chirac on this Iraq thing.
Don’t come to me for French-bashing. I like the butter too much.
But like all adoptees, I have been wondering about my old family and my life before Paris.
Since I cannot have my photo on a milk carton and am not likely to be featured on Without A Trace, if you know who I was, would you please contact me? I am about 12 years old (gulp) and need some medical history if possible.
Here’s what we know. I am all black and black is indeed beautiful. When I was adopted in 2001, you said I was seven years old. Everyone knew that was a fib, but since a woman never reveals her age, no one minded. I am, of course, older. My name was Samantha and I answered to Sam.
In my new life, I am officially named Samantha Joe Cocker Spaniel, but I am not really a cocker spaniel and only answer to Sam, even in French.
I am a tad shaggy, short, very fat and some sort of spaniel mixmaybe with teckle. I like to eat, sleep and shop. I hate parks and playing with toys. I love to be petted. I crave attention.
In fact, when people ignore me, I tend to throw back my head and howl. I love French food and sniffing candy wrappers in the street. I am cuddly and smart and speak French and English fluently. Do you know me?
My mistress, as we say in France, adopted me a year after her husband, Michael Gershman, died. She says I saved her life. But then, she saved mine.
If you know me, or knew me, please write to .(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address). I already have a French doggy passport, so I’m not coming back, but I am needing to know my roots.
