"Oh la la! Les loups," claims a woman. She was talking about us. Because it seems perfectly normal for two human beings to walk into a quiet lakeside town in Switzerland on a Sunday morning for a picnic brunch with wolves on the end of their leashes. If you aren't sporting a lap dog, a labrador or golden retriever, then your domestic dog is a wolf.
"Seriously? Someone thinks we're loopy? Should we be insulted Princess?"
"As if. I'm pretty sure they were just talking about you, Big Boy."
I'm not sure I'd want to pet these wolves if I didn't know them. But there are plenty of fans and children who do and stop to adore "les loups."
A few weeks ago an Indian woman and her child had their picture taken with them. And though both dogs were sitting calmly and quietly, the little girl was terrified to be any closer than 18 inches. Even after I promised neither dog would eat her. "They're not that kind of wolf," I said. But she didn't believe me and refused to get too close as her mom snapped the photo. I couldn't blame her. Children sense crackery.
"Loups-schmoups. Donnez-moi en sandwich, maintenant!"
"Are loups as bossy as the Princess, Pop?"
Small and medium size dogs pass by within inches and neither loup gets up. It has to be the heat. They're never that good. Since they haven't snacked on any of the children who stop to pet them, like most loups would, we share our salami sandwichs and ice cream cones with them.
"Princess, do I look like a loup?"
"Big boy, with those ears, you look more like a satellite reciever."