We have
come to a country of dog-lovers; I am at home. Dogs here go everywhere with
their owners – to markets, to restaurants and cafes, wandering the streets of
the city. Almost without exception, the dogs are well behaved, friendly and
gentle (I think it may simply be a factor of their contentment).
Today we pass by
a gated house with a sign: Attenti al
Cane (Beware of Dog). Seeing us on the other side of the gate, a German Shepherd
comes bounding toward us, tail wagging. He sits beside the sign (which pictures
a ferocious dog) and looks at us with soulful eyes, oblivious to the irony.
Cats here
are a different story. They seem fiercely independent (even moreso than North
American cats, although clearly I haven’t been scientific in my study. I’ve not
sought out a random sample of cats in either location). Most of the cats we’ve
seen have been strays, which may account for part of their indifference to
humans. Like the dogs, they seem content, but their contentment seems to lie in
their freedom rather than in any connection to people. Last night we passed a
stray cat, walking along a brick wall above the city of La Spezia. I made the universal (I think)
“psst…psst” cat call sound and reached my hand in his direction. I swear he
looked over the edge of the wall, contemplated his chances of surviving the
jump, and weighed it against the risk of me touching him. I decided to spare
him having to choose to risk any of his lives, and moved along. When I looked
back, he was continuing his independent journey.
So I will
give the Italian cats a wide berth, respecting their freedom and space. And I
will continue to revel in a country devoted to its dogs, a species, much like
the Italians themselves, with a gift for love.
No comments:
Post a Comment