Last Updated on January 21, 2024
Sometimes research for a story reveals a fact that gives the writer a second idea for an even better one … this is one of those stories.
The next to the last evening my granddaughter, daughter, niece, and I spent in Paris, we took a wonderful dinner cruise up the Seine. The food was stellar; 12-year-old Maddie was thrilled that the waitress served her champagne (which she sipped and promptly had replaced with sparkling cider), and a grand time was had by all. Maddie enjoyed a truly European late-evening dinner with a boatful of adults who admired her grown-up attire (her version of the “little black dress”) and good manners … and she was on Parisian Cloud 9.
When the cruise tied up at the foot of the Eiffel Tower, a kind American couple who had been watching Maddie throughout the evening spoke to a crew member and convinced him to let our little party of four off the boat quickly so that Maddie could view the Tower’s 11 o’clock “Twinkle” in all its sparkling glory. “What a fun evening!” we said to one another as we finally made our weary way up the stairs to the cab rank on the street above.
And we hadn’t yet met Dogman!
The first cab in the rank’s line was a large vehicle … perfect for the comfort of our party of four … and my niece approached the cabbie’s open window and (in fluent French) negotiated the cost of our return to our hotel across town. My granddaughter hopped into the front seat, we adults settled into the bench seat … and we were off!!!
Because my niece spoke fluent French, the cabbie began an animated conversation with her as we drove along. Arm on back of seat, head turned so he could see my niece, left hand casually managing the steering wheel, he talked about his political leanings (let’s not go there), views of the U.S., and other world events as we careened through the late-night streets filled with busy cafes and bars. My niece refused to be argumentative but held firm to her side of the conversation (in the meantime, I could understand enough of their rapid-fire French to keep me in convulsions of hilarity); finally, the cabbie asked Julie what she did for a living.
“I walk dogs,” Julie said. The cabbie threw his hands in the air and said (I thought) “They call me Dogman!!!” He laughed and gently nudged my granddaughter’s arm “Will she walk me?” he asked, in French. Maddie shook her head, perplexed; we all laughed, and soon we arrived safely at our hotel.
When I began thinking about writing this story, I wanted to cite the reason our cabbie’s friends called him Dogman, and began looking for references. I discovered that there is a French Superhero called DogMan who is part dog and part man. I also discovered a recent French film about an abused man who loves dogs and is called Dogman. There was no French interpretation of the names of either of these characters and I still didn’t know why he was called Dogman. So, I called my niece.
“I’m going to write about Dogman,” I told her, “but I need to tie his nickname to something specific … did he say why his friends call him Dogman?”
“No,” she responded, “he said his name is Doghman … D.o.g.h.m.a.n.”
“Ahh,” I said. “Well, then, I’m going to look that up.” And I did.
Imagine my surprise when I found that Doghman isn’t French at all, but Tunisian or Libyan. But even more interesting is the fact that only 85 people in the world have that surname!!! 85 People! In the World!!! Doghman is the 2,034,059th most common name in the World. Two Millionth!!!
By contrast, my own married surname, Dawes, which I have always considered rather rare, is the 20,219th most common in the World, and is used by about 27,055 people.
That amazing fact about our Dogman made him a story worth telling, even without his memorably wild ride and provocative conversation!! Doghman is much more than one in a million … he is one in 85!! Yo, Dogman.
Dayle Dawes