I’m sleeping with Harry for a fortnight. Harry, a big slob of a labrador, and his old honey-coloured allsorts friend Zig, who has arthritis, is deaf as a post, and can’t even jump on the bed, are my companions while I house-sit for the next fourteen days.
I’ve never had a dog.
I’ve never had the space for one, and I know as soon as I do, I’ll go a-looking. These dogs are sweet, and nicely lethargic in the heat, for Harry tends to knock you over with typical Lab goofiness when the weather is cooler. This morning, he was barking like mad at something in the undergrowth. A snake was six inches away from a big frog, who was puffed up and belligerent, standing its ground. Harry’s attentions served to freeze the scene for quite some time – the snake tense and arched, ready to pounce, the frog petrified. Harry kept on harassing the snake, who, hissing, eventually retreated. By the time I came back with my camera, the snake was gone, and the frog, a big six-inch fella, was making its way home.

I’ll be away from my ISDN line and my little house for most of the next fortnight, which is probably a good thing. I’ve been so busy stressing about the business and trying to fix my broken podcast feed, worrying about a friend’s cancer ordeal, that it’s perhaps time to take a break, in my last few weeks in Tuscany. I just have a report to write. Perhaps I’ll resurrect the novel for fun. I think it would be a shame to waste the opportunity – I’ll be in stunning scenery, with a swimming pool to hand, and just twenty minutes cycle from the wonderful town of Montisi. Tonight, I’ll be there, together with the entire population of this area, at a great big street party in front of giant TV screens watching the World Cup final. It’s been a fantastic atmosphere for each Italy match so far, and even with many of my friends away on holiday now, I have got to know so many lovely people here since October, it’s going to be great fun. The Italians sure know how to party.