From the mountains in the north to the Italian Riviera to the groves of Tuscany, the country teems with teeny Italian greyhounds and spunky daschunds. At least, that's what Mom tells me, because somehow, she left me behind when she and the famiglia went to the old country.
Anyway, she took some pix of the bigger varieties just to give me the idea of what I might have encountered had I had my own passport:
|Rocking a nap outside the Duomo in Firenze.|
|Checking for traffic on a Venice canal near Mom's favorite|
place for cichetti and spritz.
|I cani guarding a villa in the village of Bedonia in the mountains.|