We have a house visitor. While my buddy remains in Italy consuming cacio e pepe and drinking limoncello on the back of a Vespa, we are taking care of his precious dog, Smoky, the world’s most affable greyhound.
Compared with cultivating puppies, which we did last summer season and still have the scars on our furnishings to reveal for it, Smoky is paradise. Like most greys, this mild giant is faded after one good walk and invests a minimum of 18 hours a day snoring gently. My dream. He is enviably calm and client with the kids and just ever makes sounds when he desires somebody to press him up on the sofa.
Having him here might have increased the variety of day-to-day arguments somewhat, mainly