Tourist finds that photographing the dogs a means to connect with Italian people, almost misses rich Italian history. For Dog Lovers, there is a 14 Slide show, available at the article. 

But I want more. I want to find a way to connect with the people.

Sometimes it's easy, as when my tour group meets Sergio, a truffle farmer in Montone. More often, I have to overcome my rudimentary Italian.

One sunny afternoon, I see a gorgeous golden retriever/Lab tied to a post outside a cafe, waiting for his owner. I make friends with him and take his picture - resting in a pool of sunshine on the cobbled bricks.

That's it - I'll meet people through their dogs. Capturing people and canines in their daily life becomes the juice of my journey.

Unlike in America, dogs go almost everywhere with their people - caf?s, restaurants, jewelry stores, lingerie shops. And the Italian people are receptive to my approach. Some pose their dogs, smile graciously, and direct a trick or two. We start talking about their pet, and I also learn about them.

While making these friends, I often lag behind my tour group. Yes, I miss some history, but I observe my own story in the streets - a gift of communion, with not so many words, but many smiles.

Padua
This city between Verona and Venice, known for the Basilica di Sant'Antonio, Giotto frescoes, and Europe's first botanical garden, is a haven of smells and sights.

It's early morning, and the wide square is almost empty. But there's a woman riding her bike with a small black dog in her basket and another trotting beside her on a leash. Too far away to hail them, I jog to within range and get the shot - a happy beginning to my adventures in a dog-friendly city.

That evening, this same square turns into an outdoor cafe. Locals relax with their dogs at their feet. An Irish terrier with an unusual expression catches my eye. After learning his name, Otto, I succeed in getting a smile out of him and his owner.

Assisi, Umbria
The birthplace of St. Francis, lover of animals and founder of the Franciscan order, is one of the most popular tourist destinations in Italy. I nod to the country's patron saint, depicted in statues and paintings, as only a true dog lover can.

A pint-sized, sleek Chinese crested with blond poufs on head and tail is set off against the gray stone pathway. He poses for me while the sun highlights his hairdo. Impeccably groomed, his hair accents his slender physique. His owner says Mario is a character and loves to cuddle.

Montone, Umbria
Outside this medieval hilltop village where cars are banned but horses are allowed, Sergio, a retired engineer, has created the perfect environment to grow an Italian delicacy - truffles. It requires a special dog to find the subterranean fungi, and his name is Napo.

Napo races out of his pen to greet his guests and is overjoyed, anticipating a run toward a grove of trees. I ask permission to send Napo off, and Sergio nods his head.

"Find it!" I command, hoping my trainer voice still holds magic in Italy. His nose to the ground, he leads our group of 20 through the trees. He sniffs and digs, and soon paws the earth with a purpose. Digging about 3 inches, he stops and waits for Sergio, using a hook, to unearth the brown truffle.

Applause erupts each time Napo uncovers a truffle - what fun to share success. With darkness falling, we pile into the small farmhouse, sit around two large wooden tables, and enjoy the truffles, sliced as garnish on a radicchio and carrot salad.

Orvieto, Umbria
At the Tenuta Le Velette winery, Tuscany opens with green ponds, yellow lupine, and red poppies. The villa is a huge stone building with a terrace, where we sit under trees listening to a lecture on the intricacies of running a vineyard. Then we sample Valent, a pinot grigio, paired with fresh bruschetta. We sample many wines paired with appetizers - I love the saltless bread, served with a chunky chickpea paste.

As I gaze at the vines and the vistas, something fuzzy surrounds my feet - three squirming black-and-white puppies vying for my attention. They lead me on a private tour, starting with the kitchen door. This pack of brothers enjoys a sublime life, including a special meal prepared by the cook. A large black pot of broth, filled with vegetables and pieces of bread, is set out by the door. The puppies lap at it whenever they are hungry or thirsty.

We loll in the sunshine, stroll down a grassy lane to the end of the driveway, and watch tourists make funny faces as they taste wine.

Via del Capitano, Siena
Rain splatters on us as we dash for the nearest cafe on the main square, where the Palio horse race is run twice a year. After ordering my cappuccino, I hear a soft, high-pitched whine. Crouching under a nearby table, a small white terrier named Cira peeks from beneath aluminum chairs. Sporting rain gear, she happily pokes her nose to greet me. I squeeze under the table to take her picture. Cira's owner tells me they go out every day, no matter the weather.

On the way back to the bus, it begins to drizzle again, and I am mesmerized by a large, blue-eyed husky named Sal?, who lifts his head to smell the rain. I don't notice the wet soaking through my shoes - only Sal?'s saintly blue eyes.

Volterra, Tuscany
This Etruscan city smells earthy. Artisans carve snow-alabaster white marble into figurines as small as a thumbnail and statues as large as 5 feet tall. Walking slowly, I appreciate their work - and a parade of stylish dogs. While snapping photos, I come up with taglines for each.

Blondes have more fun!

A set of setters - Doily and Brenda - Perfect Femininity.

Portrait: Ageless and young of heart.

I see a young woman and her handsome black Lab coming through the Etruscan Arch, which dates to the fourth century B.C., though the Romans rebuilt it.

Lucca, Tuscany
In this bustling little town with 16th-century walls, medieval and Renaissance architecture, and antiques markets, many people walk with their dogs.

Here I find one of my favorite portraits. As rain moves away, I see a man and his Chihuahua walking toward me. Wet hair falling forward on their faces, these two define classic good looks. I stop the young man by holding my camera out and ask, "Pardon?" He grins and I notice sexy eyes. But I cannot linger - I must catch up to my group.

Peering through a lingerie-shop window, I notice a long-haired sheltie mix sitting on a rug. I wave, and the shop owner opens the window for a better photo. Mary is groomed to perfection, coiffed as elegantly as her mama. I buy the fanciest underwear I've ever owned.

Trudging up a hill toward my lodging, I come across an Afghan, her hair brushed out and flowing in the breeze. "She has just come from the house of beauty," her owner explains in Italian.

Cassie smells like an exotic mix of geraniums and rain. Moist, brown eyes look up at me, and she gives me a lick as delicate as a butterfly. I am filled with a delightful sensation of dog-surround - a sense of bonding when you don't want to be pulled apart.

For the first time, I ask my brother to take a photo of me with a new friend.

Orta San Giulio, Novara
The view near Hotel La Bussola, in this northern town that juts into Lake Orta, is doubly delightful: Italian Alps on one side, Swiss Alps on the other. Entering the hotel, I'm welcomed by another amazing sight - an oversized Dalmatian stretching on the cold marble floors on this hot day.

"Rudy is 10 years old and came from Switzerland, where he had a Pa Pa of gargantuan size," his owner says. She remembers trying to pick the calmest pup from the litter of 11.

Rudy seems extremely mellow, until I try to take his photo. He promptly gets up and trots out the door. Yikes - my first rejection.

Undaunted, I catch up as he stops for a rest in the shade of a red maple. Then he breaks into a gallop, and I watch him zoom away.

About 10 minutes later, Rudy returns to the hotel, tongue hanging out, looking a little damp around the collar. He takes his place on the marble floor, where I lie down beside him and finally get a close-up of his magnificent head.

Orta
Time to head home. As I wait for the bus to the airport in Milan, two dogs are having a little "yap about" on the sidewalk. A spunky Chihuahua tries to engage an older, wiser mixed breed, who wants nothing to do with the mouthy little guy. Laughing, their owners explain: "They have the same conversation every day."

Street talk - it's all about the gesture. Even though they don't play, they are engaging. And even though I do not speak this language, I've also interacted all along the way, and I am grateful for this final dog story.

http://www.philly.com/inquirer/gallery/20100815_
The_dogs_of_Italy__Friendly_four-legged_Italians.html
 
 

The ANNOTICO Reports Can be Viewed (With Archives) on:
[Formerly Italy at St Louis]