Puppy Love – Again

As the long days of our Italian summer pass in a steamy, hectic haze, I note it has been a while since I connected with you all. Apologies. As many of you know, we started the long awaited renovation of our new house the day lockdown lifted in early May.

I foolishly thought I’d be able to handle all the renovation tasks while blogging about our progress. Wrong. You might think we should be well versed on renovating in Italy, given this is our second time on the reno merry-go-round, but life in the time of Covid means nothing is as it once was. This includes what’s involved in organizing and overseeing a major renovation.

Simply put, it took everything out of me and left no time to write. Now that we are at the finish line – at least for the interior work – I can safely say, we will never and I mean NEVER do it again.

More on that later, including details on the trials and tribulations: from the absent-minded marble mason; to the grumpy electrician who rolled his eyes at every request; the painter’s assistant who did not appear to understand any language I attempted to converse with him in, to the suppliers who promised deliveries in ’10 days’ that three months later still haven’t arrived. This was one hell of a stressful renovation!

But finally the dust is settling and the vision we have for our new home is emerging. We are thrilled. I admit I am only going to tease you today with a few ‘before’ and ‘afters’. Enough I hope for you to return next week for more.

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I’m only giving you a tidbit today because I want to first share another story that has captivated us these past few weeks. I have spoken in previous posts about how our hearts were broken into a million pieces when we lost our beloved dog Rocco almost two years ago.

Recovering from losing a pet

If you haven’t read my posts on how we found Rocco – and how we lost him – you will find them under “Our Story” and “Midlife Musings”.

We were shattered by our grief.  Months after Rocco passed away, the hole in our hearts just refused to close. The mere mention of his name had us in tears.

I had heard of pet-sitting services that combined an opportunity to travel and to take care of a precious pet while their family went on vacation. I mentioned the idea to Peter and we both thought it might be a good way to start the healing process. We knew we weren’t ready to adopt another dog but we felt we had lots of love to give a furry friend for a week or two – and so began our pet-sitting adventures.

Pet-sitting adventures

We started with a disastrous five-day sit on the outskirts of Rome. During the Skype interview with the pet owner, we were told we’d be caring for a female Arabian greyhound and her five puppies. Perhaps a bit ambitious for our first foray into the pet-sitting world. We arrived to a house in total disarray. The ‘puppies’ were full grown young dogs meaning we were caring for six full size dogs. The house was a filthy mess. We’re talking dirty dishes with food in the sink, used dental floss all over the bathroom counter and a dusty sofa futon for us to sleep on.

But we didn’t leave. It crossed our minds but we had made a commitment and wanted to see it through. On the third morning, we woke up to a horrible smell coming from the part of the house where the dogs slept. Suffice it to say, cleaning up a bowel bomb from six dogs will forever be imprinted in our olfactory memory.  The dogs were sweet but big and completely out of control. We left on day four. It was the only pet-sit we did not complete.

We had learned a lesson. Vet the pet-sit better. Ask more questions about the cleanliness of the house, the nature of the dog and the expectations for the sit. Our next adventure was to Ireland, our first time there and much anticipated for me because of my Irish heritage. (See my post, “My Wild Irish Adventure”)

My Wild Irish Adventure

In a modern bungalow on Ticknock lane in Arklow on the East coast of Ireland, we found the lovely Miss Bebe.

This sweet lady was almost 15 years old and wobbled so badly she had to be helped to the door.  Sometimes she didn’t make it so again we found ourselves cleaning up dog poop. But the embarrassed downturn of her adorable head every time she had an accident endeared her to us.

She was an old gal struggling to retain her dignity. We got it. Peter, ever the gentleman, would pick Bebe up and carry her outside every morning. He stayed with her while she rested on the cool grass. She took to wobbling after Peter throughout the house.  She was definitely crushing on my husband.

The morning we left, Bebe pushed open our bedroom door – the first time she had ventured that far down the hallway. She knew we were leaving and wanted one final kiss from her beloved Peter.

We drove away from Ticknock lane with a final wave to Bebe, turned the corner and looked at each other. We both felt it – the beginning of the thaw. The ice-cold wall we had built around our tender hearts was warming up. Peter said he felt guilty that he could feel for another dog; that maybe we were betraying Rocco’s memory. I said we were honoring Rocco by giving the love we still had for him to another beautiful animal soul.  That was it – we were hooked.

Our next sit was on the east coast of Scotland where we spent a week with gentle Safi. Her parents told us she wasn’t a cuddler so not to expect her to pay us much attention. So imagine our surprise when on Day 2, up jumped Safi for a snuggle with me on the sofa.

We were granted a reprieve from poop and scoop in the house with Safi but around 8pm every night, just as we were settling in for a movie, she would let out truly horrific flatulence. So bad that the room had to be aired out before we could continue with our evening. Would we ever pet-sit a dog without bowel problems? It appeared not.

By the time we met Barney the Beagle in the French Alps, we had the pet-sitting thing down and found we were loving our time with each of our new animal friends. But for Peter, Barney held a special place in his heart. While I spent my days writing and preparing to launch this blog, Peter and Barney headed out on daily hikes in the mountains.

One day toward the end of our stay, they returned with Barney wagging his tail and Peter smiling like I hadn’t seen him smile since the last time he took our boy Rocco out on a long walk.

I knew then that though Rocco was forever lodged in our hearts and memories, we could now go on to love another dog.

And so life carried on as we waited for the right opportunity to come along to invite another animal soul into our lives. When I saw a photo of 8-week old Tocai on Facebook, my heart melted. Something about his soulful eyes grabbed me.

Tocai was born on the streets on Sicily.  Of his six siblings, only four had survived their first few weeks on the street. The little pups were cared for by kind volunteers in a fenced parking lot while they waited for their forever-homes. It was a tough life for babies. They could not roll around in real grass or seek shade under a tree. Their playground was a concrete jungle.

Two of Tocai’s siblings were adopted in our area in Umbria. That left just him and his sister Luna. If we took Tocai, Luna would be left alone waiting for a family to come along. We were torn. We didn’t know if we could handle two dogs. We told the adoption agency we could only take Tocai. They said they understood and continued to try to find a home for Luna. I couldn’t get the image of the two babies being torn apart from my mind. They had been each other’s lifelines for all of their short lives.

A sign from above

The night before we had to sign the adoption papers, I woke up at 5am with the words in my head that we had always said to Rocco when his little face would fall, thinking we were not taking him with us when we left the house. We always told him, “No dog left behind”. I heard those words, strong and clear now, “No dog left behind.”

And so I got up in the wee hours with those words in my head and heart and waited for Peter to wake up. I told him what had happened to wake me up and that I knew I wanted to take Luna. To my surprise, he said he had been thinking about it too and wanted to take them both. We just knew we couldn’t separate them.

And so, in the early morning hours, one week after we moved into our new house, we got in the car and drove to the Tuscany border to meet the transport truck from Sicily that carried our precious cargo. The moment they saw us, Tocai and Luna jumped into our arms and snuggled in. They knew they were home.

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We now share our home with Tocai, Luna and Charlie the cat (I will share Charlie’s story another time). Peter calls our new house, the ‘Zin Zoo’.  It couldn’t be more appropriate.

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Every day we wake up at 6:30 to take them out on our land, to-go coffee cup in hand. We watch the sunrise and the ‘twins’ as we call them run through the tall grass… and I feel it. 

What was a trickling thaw is now a free flowing river – melted by time, by joy, by love.

No dog left behind indeed.

A presto

Anna