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"He was a gray dog with a wart like a beauty mark on the right side of his muzzle and singed hair around his nose, which made him look like the chain smoker on the sign of the Smoking Dog, a bar and tobacco shop in Nice, not far from my childhood high school. He watched me, his head tilted slightly to the side, with an intense and fixed gaze, the look of pound dogs who watch you pass with an anguished and unbearable hope. He entered my life on February 17, 1968, in Beverly Hills, where I had just joined my wife Jean Seberg during the filming of a movie."