Carbon & Pinocchio

Singapore to France 1983

It was early fall. I had flown back to the South of France with our six boys where we would be staying in a rented villa until we knew our fate. Jean-Jacques was left behind to close down his trading business, and make the move. It was a tall order & one of the saddest, as it concluded the most exciting period of our young married life. He would be alone. Children’s voices, servants calling and clanging, rippling of piano and song, the quiet flow of friends and colleagues were but deafening sounds of silence. In his solitude he had only one companion: Carbon, the Singapore terrier. 

As an artist friend described her, “She is so beautiful in motion with her glistening black coat, and her bright pink tongue, the perfect dash of color.” Her tail resembled a lady’s open fan, with a long, fine,  bouncing fringe. Our delicate, medium-sized, very feminine dog always came running to make a low bow in welcome to honored guests. She bowed to her masters & frolicked with her “brothers.”    Our Malay amahs, who could not touch her for religious reasons, conversed lovingly with her. We believed that Carbon was multi-lingual, understanding not only French and English, but Malay, Chinese, and Tamil. She had a strong mezzo bark which we rarely heard. Sometimes she would bark “yes.” But, she would bark steadily at the gate when she believed the house was being approached by a dangerous intruder. She rarely barked at friends; she sensed that they were acceptable and made a a deep kowtow. As the non-human star of our household, beautiful, well-mannered, intelligent, & intuitive, she was, nonetheless, a mutt.  Probably the greatest compliment ever paid to Carbon was, “The only thing wrong with Carbon is that she’s a dog.”* 

It’s sure that Man and his Dog became inseparable after the family left Singapore. She went with him everywhere, on foot, in the car, & always unleashed, for she had no idea what a leash was. J.J. always spoke to his Carbone** in French & she obeyed perfectly. With Murty gone, she could resume attending mass. Fortunately, a French Jesuit priest & a family acquaintance from Indo-China, had lifted the dog ban...but only if she stayed quietly at the door. She was affectionately called “Carbone la Catholique.” Her saintly behavior had surely earned her a trip to the Occident where she would rejoin her pack in a brave new world. 

The day came when the house was closed down and the two travelers took a taxi to Changi International Airport. Like usual, she was unleashed and trotted close by her master’s side. Carbon was placed in a pet-carrier in the underbelly of the plane with other pets. Would they keep the pet cabin warm & comfortable as for humans? Could she endure for over 18 hours in transit?  On schedule, J.J. & Carbon were picked up at Orly by his cousin Josette who was grumpy about fetching un chien (dog) at a separate hangar. In response to her grouse, a nice surprise: pet retrieval at Orly was remarkably streamlined, plus there was no quarantine for Singapore dogs. Carbon survived the trip & seemed none the worse for her ordeal.  She jumped with joy to be back with her master; their were little yips and pained croons of "how could you?"  J.J. & Carbon stayed 3 days at his aunt's and uncle’s home in Houilles* for some much needed rest & re-adaptation to time zone and clime. Carbon managed once again to endear herself. No longer un chien, she became Mademoiselle Carbone to the members of this sprawling French family.

But, J.J. and Carbon still had a long journey before them.They needed to join the rest of the family in the Midi. For this they took trains. Beginning at la station d’ Houilles, Carbon-unleashed took the commuter train like a pro. There were some glares, but no comments. At Gare St. Lazare, they had to take le métro. This was probably the most daunting, up and down stairs, escalators, and tunnels among the hoards. Yet, she did it in style and earned many smiles, and only a few glares. Then, they took the night train at Gare de Lyon. This was the biggest test of all. Would she pass? Into the compartment passengers bags were tucked away, the couchettes were down & prepared with sheets, pillows, and blankets. Could Carbon stay with J.J.? Or, must she go to a separate car for animals?

If Carbon were allowed to stay in the compartment with the other sleepers this would defy all the norms and rules for animals on board the night train. At home she merely selected one of her boys to sleep with on the foot of the bed. When the boys were away she simply moved to the foot of J.J.’s big bed. It was natural for her to settle in at the foot of his couchette. She was very quiet. Only her bright brown eyes shined in the dim light, as she studied the other passengers. Likewise when the comptroller came by to check the tickets, she stayed still, watching. He spied her soon enough & announced, “You know, dogs are not supposed to stay in passenger cars. Your dog must leave.” But then, unexpectedly, he said, “But, if the other passengers have no problem with this dog remaining in the compartment, then I guess we can make an exception.” There was an older lady who said, “Mais oui!*** This doggie is perfectly behaved.” And the only other passenger, a soldier, agreed, “It should stay! It's très gentille.”**** J.J. still believes it was at that moment that Carbone,  like Pinocchio, became a real person.

*This grudging compliment was uttered by my mother who is not a “dog” person.

**Carbone:  feminine version in French of Carbon.

*** Mais, oui!: But, yes!

****gentil: very gentle/nice


Note: This historiette is dedicated to J.J., and our 7 sons who loved Carbon like a daughter & a sister.