PICCOLINO

The Italians, I have found, are not all that original when it comes to naming their dogs, who are always referred to collectively as Fido in the press in stories such as the "Prozac for Dogs" one so brilliantly lampooned by As a Dodo recently. When I was down in the little house in Modica Bassa, the old gentlemen who would sit on the wall to chat to each other were quite convinced that all British dogs are called Bobby and nothing would change their minds, even though I told them that Simone is a Simone and a "she"! "'Elo, Bobby, 'ow are you?" they would ask each morning, proudly showing off their English. There was a delightful little puppy with his elderly owner in the petshop down there this morning. Now, you have to understand, reader , that I go soppy over dogs in the way that other women do over babies, so after I had "Ahed" , cooed to and petted this newcomer, I asked his owner, "E come si chiama questo piccolino?" ["What's this little one's name?"] I should have guessed it: "Piccolino", he replied, looking at me as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Children usually make a fuss of Simone - "Guarda il bel cagnolino!" ["Look at the beautiful doggie!"] they cry - and she is incredibly gentle and good around them. But this morning, as we were on our walk, a brat in a buggy pointed and shouted , "Un cane - brutto!" ["A dog - it's ugly!"] I quickly covered Simi's ears [her Italian being quite good now] and smiled indulgently whilst forcing myself not to risk a lynching by retorting, "Well, actually, I think you're a horrible, ugly child with no aesthetic judgement" . How can his parents allow him to speak ill of a dog? If the creature wants to go through life insulting his peers, so be it. But dogs?!!