134. The Dogs

Maybe I’m hyper-alert to them, having lost our dear Rocky just a week or so ago. But dogs are everywhere here.

Waiting for a table
Having a coffee

You see them in the restaurants; you see them in the shops.

On the door of a restaurant

They seem to routinely accompany their owners to work, stationing themselves so they can keep an eye on all the goings-on around them.

Guarding the door at Dolce e Gabbana
At the fancy perfume shop

It seems no one gives it a second thought. I don’t know if you’d see them in church services or hospitals, but I wouldn’t be surprised.

Taking care of business

I’m reading a memoir — Dottoressa : An American Doctor in Rome, by Susan Levenstein — written by a doctor who has practiced medicine in both the U.S. and Italy. She notes how much more comfortable Italians are speaking openly of body parts and functions that American find taboo, or at least worthy of euphemisms. I’m pretty sure I’d never see a sign like this on an American street.

“Don’t be an ostrich. Collect it!”

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