Two men, alone, a bachelor pad in a big city...

...what could go wrong? You might well ask! Ms E left us, to pursue her artistic inclinations on some 'faily' pet project of her own (claimed she been invited to some fancy dan 'event', a likely story); I knew she'd soon find that the real world was a cold and lonely place and come back begging to have her place in the pack restored. I'm a kind-hearted terrier so I knew I'd not resist her pleas. All the more reason to live it up in her absence! What I'd not counted on was the monstrous feebleness of Mr E. No sooner had we the place to ourselves and the night ahead of us than he succumbed to what he claimed was 'a cold'. Pah. Didn't stop him tap, tap, tapping on the keyboard; did stop him chauffeuring me around Rome's louchest hotspots, and whooping it up with the very cute girls who woof suggestively at me every day... I had such a boring time that I was actually glad to see Ms E stroll unconcernedly through the door as if she'd never left. I might have nipped her a bit just to show I could do without her, but as it happened I didn't even have the heart for the traditional terrier cold-shoulder. She said she flew back on a plane called Florence Nightingale. All I can say is it was like a Crimean War hospital here, and I'm no doggy with a lamp! I wasn't at all swayed to allow her back into the Entourage by the gifts she brought. Not at all...

A Terrier Shall Rise

Lovely stroll around the Circus Maximus the other day. It was just like in that lovely movie 'Gladiator' with Russell Crowe. He's Welsh, isn't he?

I shall pee here again, but not yet, not yet.

Up hill and down dale?

Most of our excursions thus far include a hilly stroll - this morning I successfully proposed a stroll up through the charming backstreets and elegant low-rise blocks around S. Saba. I've never heard such wheezing as the Entourage emitted when climbing the three flights of marble steps leading up-hill. I thought I might have to nip them (purely for encouragement of course...). They seemed oblivious to the Classical resonances of the Aventine 'spur', and I start to feel that my little didactic lectures on our morning walks fall on deaf ears. This morning's walk was notable too for it's (relative) cool - tho as I sit dictating now it's in (I estimate) the mid-20s at least. How fortunate that I persuaded Mr E to bathe me this morning. It's intolerable to be 'ripe' in this weather. Or should I say 'climate'? Yesterday we explored 'our' end of Trastevere. The E has friends over there, with whom I've allowed them to take a couple of nights 'off-duty'. Our trip yesterday encompassed some more gems of Italian rationalism - the Nuovo Sacher cinema and adjoining block. It would have been helpful if someone could have lifted me up to get a clearer view of the vividly colourful mosaics, but cries of 'hot', 'fat', and 'stinker' somehow blended in the air when I made the polite request. Last night the Entourage blotted their collective copybook by omitting to include me innthe ice-cream order at Violorosso on P.zza S Maria Liberatrice. I was then forced to wait for a very long time as they sat on a bench and chattered. It was surely gone 22.30 when I persuaded them to accompany me back towards the pretty little thing with whom I've struck up a friendship; alas she had by then retired for the night, and so did I.

It was the best of times...

A delightful morning stroll saw us revisit S. Sabina (clearly a terrier of some note; memo to self - google her) and take in the air and view atbthe Orange Garden. A slightly milky haze over the city, but I still managed to point out some of the major sites which the feather-brained Es appear incapable of internalising. They spent some time mulling over the distinctness of the Vatican from the Gianicolo, when any fool could see the dip on the tree-line. We terriers are, of course, tree-experts. Home via the Tempio di Diana piazza, and a caffe on P.zza S. M. L. (my typing paws are weary). No-one offered me a cappuccino or cornetto, I think they were sulking in the face of my sagacity. It was also rather clammier, atmospherically, today. I don't dare look in the glass - my magnificent coat will be a frizz! I spent much of the day in contemplation, even refusimg a shopping trip to Volpetti! I think the excursion was planned on my behalf to make up for restraining me, at the mercy of my local fans, outside Panificio Passi this morning. The Es pretended to be oblivious, and returned raving about the cakes, meats and cheeses. Their bag of booty disappeared mysteriously when they left for an aperitivo and I can't pretend I was not disappointed. Surely they should ave known that I too would enjoy making a new friend? Disconsolate, I raided the snack-dispenser and ave spent the evening in (very well-filled) dudgeon.

Far niente...

I feel at last that I'm settling in. It's taken a week (and yesterday's hot and uncomfortable ride on the 30 didn't help) but I'm something of a local fixture by now... Our strolls around the Aventine continue to delight, and E rather put out (I suspect) by the number of friend requests I receive from the Testaccio beau-monde. They have a few acquaintances of course, but the kinds of meaningful discourse one can plug into whilst doing olfctory lamp-post researches are beyond them... I introduced them to a charming couple when we shared an aperitivo and nibbles in the dying light of P.zzz Augusto Imperatore following our suset stroll atop the Pincio nymphaeum yesterday. And I must say my generosity paid off and they've allowed me a restful day in today's heat. I may take them out for an ice-cream later, to reward them.

Park life

A pleasant enough stroll this morning with my minders around my local park, dedicated to the partisans and naturally full of bloated Fascist symbolism. Alas, the intricate ducts and channels of the 1930s water features were largely in disrepair. Say what you will about Mussolini, at least he made the drains run on time...

Then on to the pleasant suburbs of the lower Aventine - these should be mine. As should the sofa, on which Mr and Mrs E *insist on sitting*! Really, there seems to be no end to the training they require.

Both are now playing with their tappy toys, but I heard mention of a bus excursion to the Villa Sciarra later, followed by a beer - mine's a Peroni.

Historical passeggiata

I managed to drag the reluctant Entourage on a distinctly improving stroll this morning. They had, I think, hoped to skulk around a caffe instead (having stayed out late enjoying themselves without me last night, a concept I find impossible to grasp properly. It makes my head hurt...).

Instead I marched them down the Tiber past the monumental works of ‘il fascismo’, and to the Cloaca Maxima outlet. They were making some sort of weak joke about ‘puer’ and ‘sewer’ which I chose to ignore. Their puerility astonishes me occasionally (although to be fair, and I am a fair-minded to a fault, they were stern in my defence when we were confronted by a violent dog on our perambulation round Monte Testaccio last night...)!

I managed to ignore the morning bleating about ‘breakfast’ and ‘coffee’ as far Ponte Palatino, at which point I gave up on the plan to continue their classical education and led them home. Pah!