Long-coated collie in white, black and tan, seen in profile with its mouth open, on a sunlit path

I Tested 5 Dog-Friendly Terraces in Paris — My Honest Review

If the water bowl takes more than five minutes to arrive, I sulk. If the waiter greets my nose before my human, I'm a customer for life. My name is Olympe Milady, I'm a rough collie, and this spring my human, Diana, took me to five Parisian terraces. She judged the plate. I judged everything else.

None of them knew they were sitting an exam: my human paid every bill, and I scored each one out of five bones.

Long-coated collie in white, black and tan, seen in profile with its mouth open, on a sunlit path
A proper walk before every terrace: that's me on my way.

How a dog scores a terrace

Humans read the menu. I read the floor. My five criteria:

  • The bowl: does it turn up without being asked for?
  • The welcome: a hello for my nose, or a sigh?
  • The space: can I stretch out under the table?
  • The shade: I wear a fur coat all year round.
  • The bonus: a biscuit, a fuss, a crumb dropped by accident.
Corgi drinking from the trough of a dog water bottle held out by a hand, by the sea
The first criterion, and by far the most important: fresh water.

Terrace 1: the café in Le Marais (3rd)

Five bones out of five, and the fastest hello in Paris: that Tuesday at 1pm, on a pedestrianised street, the waiter greeted my nose before my human. Quite right: I was the most elegant creature on the street.

A ceramic bowl in two minutes, not a scooter in sight and, as we left, a biscuit "on the house". My human gave her club sandwich 4/5: decent, nothing more.

Café terrace with rattan armchairs, blue-and-white striped cushions and small bouquets on round tables
Rattan, striped cushions, flowers: the scene is set before the bill arrives.

Terrace 2: the brunch spot in Montmartre (18th)

Two bones out of five: no bowl, tables packed so tightly that I never managed to lie down and, by noon, not a scrap of shade. That Sunday at 11am, after a fifteen-minute queue, we were told "the dog can stay on the terrace" in the voice people use to read out terms and conditions.

My human had to ask for water: I drank from a paper cup. She gave her pancakes 3/5, and I did not get a pancake. Next time, it's a brunch hosted at home, cushion guaranteed.

Black dog sitting at a table with a checked napkin tied around its neck, in front of an empty bowl
A fellow diner, napkin tied on: he didn't get a pancake either.

Terrace 3: the Italian on Canal Saint-Martin (10th)

Five bones out of five, and a stainless steel bowl within three minutes. That Wednesday at 7:30pm, golden light on the water, the waiter greeted me with "Buonasera! Come si chiama?" I didn't understand a word, but I approved of all of it with my nose.

In the shade of the plane trees, stretched out facing the canal, I played food critic on duty. My human gave her al dente cacio e pepe 4.5/5, the texture the other human explains in her ten basic cooking techniques. At the end of the meal, a corner of plain focaccia "per il cane" (no garlic, my human checked). "Il cane" is me.

Canal Saint-Martin seen from the cobbled quay: a Quai de Valmy street sign, trees and a brick-and-stone building on the far bank
Canal Saint-Martin, Quai de Valmy side: water, shade, cobbles.

Terrace 4: the bistro in the 11th

"Sit there, the dog will have room." At the bistro in the 11th, one Thursday lunchtime among paper tablecloths and a chalkboard menu, nobody made a meal of it: I was treated like an ordinary customer, which rarely happens to me.

A corner of my own against the wall, and a north-facing terrace, so shade at midday. My human crowned her bavette with shallot sauce the best dish of all five tests (4.5/5). I didn't get a crumb. Shallots are alliums, like garlic and leeks, the onion family, and the PDSA's guide to onion and garlic poisoning in dogs warns that cooked onions, garlic and leeks are still toxic to dogs. I sulked on principle: 3.5 bones out of 5.

Terrace 5: the tearoom in the 6th

Close-up of a blue merle rough collie with blue eyes and a serious look
My face when I was told I was "tolerated".

One bone out of five, my worst score of the spring. "Dogs are tolerated on the terrace," we were told that Saturday at 3pm. Tolerated. I tucked my tail away.

Marble tables about forty centimetres apart (measured by nose): I couldn't lie down without spilling into the walkway, so I spent the whole afternoon tea on my feet. No bowl, then a plastic cup once my human insisted. Matcha latte good, carrot cake dry: 2/5 from my human.

My final ranking of the five terraces

  1. The Italian on Canal Saint-Martin: the welcome, the shade, the focaccia.
  2. The café in Le Marais: the warmest hello.
  3. The bistro in the 11th: the best plate, a quiet respect.
  4. The brunch spot in Montmartre: no room, no shade.
  5. The tearoom in the 6th: pretty in photos, and that's all.

— Olympe, from my cushion

Frequently asked questions

What does my dog need to travel from Britain to Paris?

GOV.UK's rules for taking a pet to an EU country require a microchip, a rabies vaccination followed by a 21-day wait, and an animal health certificate from your vet, valid for 10 days for entry into the EU. For the crossing, Eurostar's page on travelling with pets rules out pets on trains to and from London, guide and assistance dogs excepted, while LeShuttle's pet travel page explains that your dog checks in at Pet Reception, then rides the 35-minute crossing with you. On the way home, GOV.UK's tapeworm treatment rules for dogs require a vet to treat your dog no less than 24 hours and no more than 5 days before you enter Great Britain.

Can my dog share my plate at a restaurant?

No, bring their own treats: the PDSA reminds owners that sauces and other pre-made foods may contain onions or garlic. A "little taste" of sauce is exactly where they hide.

What time of day is best for a terrace with a dog?

On a weekday, around 11:30am, or in the early evening once the sun drops: service is calm and the pavement has cooled down. Avoid Sunday at brunch time.

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