First we should say that Anna's house is small. Originally just one crowded room downstairs, though workers have been here since Anna left and now there is a separate kitchen. So two small rooms downstairs and two small bedrooms upstairs. In this small house live two adults, three large dogs, and two rambunctious cats. Luckily, Anna's friend Antonella took the largest and hairiest dog (named Puttu) to live in town with her while Anna is gone. One down. We are left with Krober, a black and white high-strung dog of the sort you always see on TV winning agility contests and jumping twenty feet in the air for a frisbee, and Simba, a rottweiler mix who has an inexplicable fear of people and other dogs that doesn't fit with her intimidating size. Add one male gray cat ("Gray Cat" or "Big Cat") and one female white cat ("White Cat" or "Small Cat") and you've got yourself one Animal House.
There was another small pitbull-type dog here for one day but she happened to be in heat at the time and the incessant amorous advances of Puttu seem to have deterred her from returning. It's too bad. We liked her.
All of the animals run free in the yard all day. It's a very big yard and abuts a dirt road that has relatively little traffic, so they have a pretty happy life. Though Krober would probably prefer there to be more traffic - he secretly dreams of living alongside the interstate - because the highlight of his day is the sound of an approaching vehicle. Preferably a little truck with dogs in the back. Whenever a vehicle passes the house we are treated to an agonizing 20 seconds of waiting to see whether, this time, Krober will actually be run over and die. He runs right next to the front tire and I'm sure the driver can clearly see the color of his eyes. There is a lot of swerving and honking from the uninitiated, while those already familiar with the color of Krober's eyes just drive straight on through without slowing. This is terrifying to watch but somehow that dog is never hurt.
We take the dogs for a walk about four times a day. Every time we go outside for anything they both start barking and jumping in the air, thrilled at the possibility of going for a WALK!!
for the first time in two hours. If we were just going out to dump the garbage we feel guilty and end up taking them for yet another walk. If we need to walk somewhere without them, like into Taormina, it's even worse because they cry and moan like their little dog hearts are being broken.
We would like to be able to bring them into town with us. It's an hour hike and they would love it, but unfortunately doing so is impossible. At the sight of another dog, Krober morphs into rabid Old Yeller, lunging and snarling until everyone stops and stares thinking "why can't those people control their dog?" Of course we can't defend ourselves and the only word we can say to him in Italian is "no" so we can't tell Krober to sit, stay, or heel. Simba, on the opposite extreme, is too scared to go into town. Apparently she melts into a quivering puddle and cannot proceed once she sees all of the people and dogs who inhabit Taormina. So, the dogs stay home.
A few days ago, when returning from a walk with the dogs, we suffered the most terrifying animal experience of our lives. The dogs, as usual, had run off ahead when we got back to the house, and we could see that they had spotted a neighbor's cat about four terraces below the house. These dogs get along perfectly with Gray Cat and White Cat, often submitting to mutual grooming and the like, so we weren't particularly concerned. However, as we watched, Krober and Simba cornered this poor cat, pinned it to the ground, and then Simba picked it up in her mouth and shook it furiously back and forth while the cat screeaaamed. So we screamed and covered our eyes, worrying that we were about to witness something worthy of the Discovery Channel. The cat somehow got out of Simba's mouth and we took off running for it. We had to climb down and by the time we got there, the scene was deserted. No blood, good sign. We found the cat in a nearby olive tree and it appeared to be okay - a miracle. By this time the dogs had somehow made it all the way back up to the house and were staring down at us from the yard, tails wagging, ready for dinner.
Neither of us has much experience with cats so maybe it is normal that Gray Cat and White Cat pee everywhere, but we weren't expecting it. They peed next to the shower, under the family room bench, on top of the family room bench, in the wood box, in the fireplace vent, in the crawl space underneath the stairs, in the garbage can, and under the sink. For some reason they have no litter box. So we made the executive decision that the cats could stay outside all the time except when eating. They don't seem to mind.
Last night we were afraid the peeing epidemic had spread to the dogs because after we ate dinner we returned to the family room to find three large puddles on the floor and both dogs looking guilty. Turned out they had just been drooling uncontrollably at the aroma of our chicken soup, but it required Ed's nose an inch from said offending puddles to make that determination.
Good thing the animals are here. Otherwise, a quiet and solitary two weeks in a house in Sicily could have been pretty boring.
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