Today started off much like any other Saturday morning at Casa Pecora Nera.
I was gently snoring as Mrs Sensible deposited a mug of English tea next to our bed and said get up.
The two most important things in life, English tea and mosquito spray
Get out of bed.
Erh why, it’s Saturday?
Because YOU promised to help Tracey with her grape harvest.
While Mrs S went upstairs to have a bath, I naturally went back to sleep.
I was rudely awaken by the sound of those big bells they tie around the neck of goats, sheep and even cows.
We don’t wear bells!
As I lay there listening to the sheep bells in the lane outside our house, I wondered whether to invite the shepherd and his sheep into our garden, because I think the last time the grass was cut was sometime in June.
Miss Jessica did a great job cutting the grass in June, even if I did distract her by accidentally spraying her with the hosepipe.
Miss Jessica, a little wet but good fun
I was just about to get out of bed, when the sound of the bells was suddenly coming from our garden. Problem solved, no invite needed.
When I looked out of the window, I was amazed to see, not sheep and goats but three scabby dogs running around my garden, complete with bells around their necks. All the cats had mysteriously disappeared, even Mishmash.
Two of the dogs shared an amazing resemblance to Gilder, the incredibly fat but short legged dog.
Gilda always had trouble running because her tummy scraped along the floor
I am sure you remember Gilder’s escapades with Scooby Doo the Machiavellian cat.
Quickly I ran outside and heard Dottoressa Paula telling the hunter off. It seems she was also annoyed that the hunter had no control over his dogs.
My friend the amazing dottoresse Paula
Dottoressa Paula is famous for rallying the local policeman’s car in the vineyard.
While Dottoressa Paula remonstrated with the hunter and told him to unload his rifle while she was shouting at him.
Best picture of the hunter
I used some of my newly acquired italian to also shout at him.
Dott Paula: (In perfect Italian) If you can’t control your dogs, they should be on a leash!
Me: ( My version of Italian) My cat now on roof, you going him fetch?
Dott Paula: Unload your gun, while you are talking to me.
Me: Your dogs going my garden fetch now!!
Susie Stupid Pussy Cat waiting for the all clear.
Our little tag team went on for a good five minutes until the hunter decided to shuffle off down the lane, with five assorted dogs following him.
As he left us I asked.
Do you know word I’m sorry? Yes or No?
He stood there looking confused, maybe he was trying to understand my question or what the word sorry means.
After a quick espresso with the kind but formidable Dottoressa I went off to pick grapes at Tracey’s
Tracey runs a bed and breakfast near me, her website is http://laroccaitalia.com and each year I help her and her friends to pick the grapes and ultimately drink some of the wine.
So why have we named this years wine Château LaFeet?
The lovely Alyssa and Des
Because it is traditional for the girls to tread the grapes before we send them off to be fermented into wonderful wine.
I raise a glass of Château LaFeet to all my friends in bloggo land.
Englishman in Italy 
Maybe you will need to cut the grass yourself 😀
I do get annoyed too, when I see uncontrolled dogs without leashes, which are very common here too. While my dog is big, 40 kg, and in a leash when we walk in public roads, many small dogs are not kept in a leash and they are much more aggressive than the big dogs and bite very easy.
I use to slip the leash and let my dog get the freedom to protect himself, if necessary. Then people are shouting very loud: Your dog is SO big and very dangerous. I can only smile and hope, this will help them to use a leash for their dogs too. Until now it has helped. My dog isn’t aggressive, but he doesn’t like loose dogs.
Cheers when you have helped with the grapes 😀
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The dogs were lucky Mishmash wasn’t around, she may only be a cat. But she chases any dog that enters the garden.
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Hunting dogs can be dangerous for a cat, as they react very fast and often don’t get enough food at home. When my cat were younger, he was also chasing the dogs away, but a meeting with hunting dogs can be fatal.
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I stopped because I saw the “Shaun the Sheep” picture, but ended up enjoying the entire piece.
Bravissimo!
I shall be back for more when I need a smile.
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Thanks Biff,
I was so carried away trying to translate my anger into Italian, I forgot to take any pictures of the fat dogs with the little legs or the hunter who was caught between the Doc and myself.
One of our cats is particularly stupid and had it been lazing in the garden (or even a small child) when the dogs arrived, things might have been different.
We gave the hunter such a hard time, I doubt he will be back here hunting wild boar anytime soon.
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I would have trouble translating anything into Italian (or anything else) as I am, sadly, monolingual. But humour is universal. Hence, my enjoyment of your post. 🙂
I, too, have a particularly stupid cat (we have had her tested), so I can sympathize. She struggles with basic cat skills (for instance, she often falls over when trying to lick her fur). But we love her and she is sweet tempered and you can’t ask for much more than that in a cat.
Here’s hoping you don’t have any more run-ins with the boar hunter!
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I’m not really a cat person, well I didn’t think I was.
We seem to have acquired 5 of the hairy things. They are really working cats that are here to keep the mouse population in check.
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Truth be told, I’m not a cat person either, but I found out that my vote counts for nothing when the family is voting on whether or not to get a household pet. Oh well … such is life. 🙂
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🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣
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You have a vote??? That would be a luxury even if it counted for nothing….
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Well … my vote is like the “votes” in communist dictatorships. Sure I get one … but it is highly ineffective.
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I think all in all, it sounds like a wonderful day! viva la vino!
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You can’t finish a day without a glass of wine with friends
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I is a good thing that the cats know to get out of the way or were at least not around when the brazen hunter and his fat dogs invaded your territory. I pic of the fat dachshund sort of put me in disbelief as I wondered how in the world a dog of such gigantic proportions could have possible gotten up enough steam to have left its homing grounds.
At any rate you got to watch the ladies take off their shoes and stomp their way to the bottom of the grape wagon. Maybe bare feet is what gives homemade Italian wine that hint of earthiness.
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I think if Mishmash had been in the garden, she would have chased the dogs.
Yes I think the feet add a little something to the wine
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