Friends of our hosts, Rachel and Kate, invited us for a birthday celebration for Rachel at a restaurant with "The Best Pizza in the World." But I can only write about it if I do not disclose the name or the town. It was not only the best pizza ever but so great to be invited out on our very first week in Italy with two terrifically interesting and fun women. Especially coming on the heels of Paolo. Paolo is a hunting dog that apparently lost his hunter or his hunter him for he found us walking near the woods on this property and followed us out. Now this is hunting season big time. Everywhere, literally, are hunters in camoflage searching for wild boar, Cinghale, and birds, Uccelli. Hunters in Italy can go on private land, no restrictions. As this is a large property with perfect brush for birds and wild boar. Each day we wake to shots and hear them throughout the day. We won't take the dogs out of the fenced portion of the property because we are fearful that they will be mistaken for a boar. Back to Paolo. We know his name because it was written on a large, yellow plastic collar with a telephone number. We were able to hand him over to some hunters on our road who took him. But at midnight, we woke to dogs barking in our yard. Looking down from our window was Jack (the cheeky Jack Russell who had really endeared himself to us already) out of his kennel and wagging his tail. Tom quickly dressed and went down to put Jack away only to encounter Paolo who had squeezed himself somehow into the front gate and into the kennel, had returned. Tom put the shivering Paolo to bed in the wood shed and the next day we called the vet giving her the number on his now orange collar. Fearful that Paolo was a dead dog walking if he was taken by the dog catcher, who had been called we think, we were relieved when we think his family came to get him soon after. Every day we half expect Paolo to show up on our doorstep.
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