Perhaps what surprised me the most over the course of my time in Italy was just how normal everything felt. Sure, the ancient churches and piazzas everywhere were breathtaking and the arduous hilltop climbs were exhausting – but regardless of it all, Italy felt so much closer to Charleston than I ever could have thought, filled with people just being, well, people. And I think a large contributing factor to me experiencing my trip abroad this way is due to one simple thing: the animals.
At home, I’ve got two senior dogs and a year-old cat, who are the lights of my life. And so the amount and variety of stray and pet animals I saw throughout my time in Spoleto and beyond was just an incredibly grounding experience for me. My dogs are big old Black Labs, but most Italians I saw owned small dogs, largely due to the difference in terrain – unlike bigger dogs, Dachshunds and Terriers can be easily carried up the steep hills. And the number of stray cats my group and I saw, no matter where we went? I’ve never met such love-y and sweet little cats in my entire life, outside of my own – who I was reminded of every time a new stray wandered up to us and started yelling at us, demanding attention.
Some of my fondest memories in Spoleto come from the arrival at my classroom every Monday and Wednesday, at a small, homey hotel overlooking the Umbrian hills. I’d walk with my friends on a road through the last stretch of the journey, and every time there would be the sweetest black and white cat stretched out on the pavement, sheltered in the shadows of the nearby cars. She was an old girl but always greeted us unless she was otherwise occupied with a deep sleep. And just past her, further up the road, was a small bar where we normally stopped for a quick breakfast – and greeted another cat that the locals called Mao: a chubby orange tomcat who was always asleep on one of the sun-warmed benches. Not to mention the tiny gray kitten who hung out at the actual hotel and would watch us from the roof while we wrote out on the back patio. They were skinny as all get out, and had the tiniest meow, but were definitely our quiet observer our entire time there.
And every time without fail, it always struck me just how surreal the experience was with the leashed dogs and stray cats that populated every city I visited – because when you go abroad, you’re not dreaming about seeing the locals go about their business or whatnot. You aren’t thinking about the little things like the stray kittens and logistics of owning a Rottweiler compared to a Corgi in the Umbrian countryside – but like most things in life, those are the little things that actually do stick with you, far beyond the end of the trip.
