Day 17: Bassano del Grappa

There's a gift across the street, a perfect view of it from our kitchen window. A black dog with pointed ears and wolf-like tail, very much like our own. I've given her a nickname, a stand-in for when I'm missing mine and need a chat with something, not wanting to feel crazy.

Today she escaped. She was wandering outside the fence, waiting for someone to let her in but no one was home. Luckily, I was -- the strange American sipping her coffee and cooing her unknown from afar.

He walked down to help her. A good girl, sitting at the gate, not wanting to go far. Not like ours at all.