what's it all about?

Yesterday Zacchi escaped down onto the lower terraces where we were picking, and was not impressed at being caught and returned to the safe enclosure. The lower terraces are far more exciting, bordering woods, a jungle, and eventually the road.  Once caught and carried back up he growled ferociously, then vented all his fury on poor Piccolina.  It's a bit of a pattern; if I impose my will over his, he takes it out on Piccolina. There is a very definite pecking order in our house, and it is actually quite important that Zacchi reminds Piccolina of this as she is very strong and often hurts him, even if in play.

But yesterday's spat was rather extreme, so this morning at the first opportunity I reprimanded him (for continuing to bark when I had told him to stop) by throwing a little water at him, my established punishment for the dogs. He was the most well behaved little fellow after that, and didn't once try to join us down where we were picking.

  

Bravo, Zacchi, oggi hai fatto bene. (And don't worry, I don't cook with that frying pan, it is warped and is added to the collection of once loved cooking ware that these two share. Pickle, where is your pot?) 

Today I am grateful for two semi-obedient multi-lingual little dogs.