Zinka, An Incredibly Socially Awkward But Beautiful Dog: My Guardian Angel Against Homesickness

When people ask me if I am missing my family I jokingly say 'No, but I am really missing my two pet dogs.'

In some ways this is true. I miss my family but not in heart-wrenching way known to abruptly end a traveler's trip and see them on the first jet home. In some ways being away from my family has made me appreciate them more than ever and I have to stop myself from buying every little lampshade or coffee mug set I see that I think they would like.

I am filled with a desire to share with them my little pieces of beauty here in Italy, because I am so grateful they helped me get here and that they are happy for me. And in some ways with just the positives now to share with each other, I am getting along much better with all my family members than I have for a while. I can't wait to return home to share with them all I have experienced but at the same time feel no rush to do so.

As for my friends, I would be lying is I said I didn't miss them very much. Often particularly when I have had leisure time to myself to travel I have mentally imagined summoning friends to join me, wanting their opinion on something beautiful and to make me laugh. However there is something very special about my friends, each and every one of them, and despite my deep sadness and regret that I haven't and may not be present for the big/difficult/glorious moments of their lives this year, I get the feeling that to them I am doing something actually quite expected and within the confines of my character that they know. It is a beautiful thing when your friends love you but also encourage to go where your gut instinct takes you and to make the most of it, because it is a sign they know you well and that they want to see you grow.

I guess at the end of the day I am just emotionally ready for this trip. In all honesty if i had attempted the same journey I am on now a year earlier, it could have been disastrous. It is not so much a sense of direction that I have here in Italy that prevents me from feeling homesickness, but a belief in myself that I will cope through the good times and the bad.

But in regards to missing my furry four-legged friends this is a serious issue. Nothing about Italy can stop me from missing my little couch-potato Tootsie with her sensitive brown eyes and her narcissistic despot of a companion, Billy, whose plump wool coat I miss running my hands through. No Colosseum, no sparkling coastline, no glistening freshly baked apple cake, no ancient church spire peeping through a foggy valley at dawn.

I miss my monkey-sausages (a strange nickname I know, but hey, it works for me) so very very much that I have taken to patting any new dog I come across here in Italy. And thankfully people love their dogs here in Italy so I have many opportunities. Almost every second family has a dog or at least a cat. My friend here in Genova had a friend who had to move apartment because his hunting dog had fifteen puppies and they destroyed the house....

In Pisa I was thrilled to know I would not only have three children to dote upon but there would be a dog! I could pour all my longings for my two dogs onto this poor unsuspecting canine, and smother it with attention and cuddles.

***

When I first saw Zinka I was stunned by her bright orange eyes. They glowed in contrast to her black fur which shined a variety of coppers and bronzes in the sun, like a brilliant piece of marble. She barked at me furiously, but being a dog person I could instinctively tell it was a facade of dominance, I ignored the barks and went straight through the gate and offered her my hand to suss out my smell.

Her barks melted into a silly whine of happiness and she ran towards me, wiggling her backend in a submissive almost sheepish way. She always had this funny way of throwing herself to the floor when you greeted her, but keeping her back legs and tail upright, so you always ended up patting her bottom as she squirmed around on the ground like a deformed but happy worm.

***

Zinka was hilarious, at once strangely independent but in other ways desperately needy and clingy.
She loved roaming the streets by herself, leaving the house by slipping through our legs once the front gate was opened. We had to back slowly towards to gate, keeping eye contact with her or else she would fly through and we wouldn't see her for at least an hour. But I took pity on the poor thing. I could tell by her sleek, stealthy build set low to the ground and long muzzle that she was a combination of herding dogs, breeds that are always intelligent and active. She was so curious about the world outside her expansive garden that I wanted to indulge her.

I will never forget her surprise when I opened the front gate and gestured for her to go through. She stared, thinking it some kind of trap and then without warning ran through with the panicked gait of someone being pursued by something dangerous. She whirled circles around the girls and I as we walked to the park, delirious on freedom willingly bestowed.

After that point she became my companion and I hated going to the park or anywhere without her. However she had some strange habits that saw me constantly apologizing to others in awkward Italian. Zinka loved people, but was also quite shy. When walking past a new human she stopped in her tracks and stared till they had passed. Then to my horror would silently stalk them for a minimun of 20 metres sniffing at their behind.

She was also fond of sneaking up to people from behind, only to have them jump with fright when she began licking at their shoes. Knowing she had done something socially awkward she would then run in the opposite direction for ten minutes solid. I would whistle and call her name, wanting the black speck on the Tuscan horizon to return and give socializing like a normal dog another go.

She loved children though, adults scared her a bit more. One of her favorite activities was to sneak out of the house at lunchtime, so she could pass by the elementary school on the corner of the street where one of the girls attended. The little girls would pat her eagerly through the bars of the school gate as Zinka would delight in the attention. She was also adorably protective of the little 2 year old girl of the family. She let the little girl snuggle up to her, sit on her like a horse and would guard her like a precious puppy if she sensed something was amiss at the park.

*** 

One night though I was up very late. Earlier that night the power had gone off in the house and in the confusion to reach the power box outside the house Zinka had slipped through the front door into the darkness. It was now raining outside and about 2am. With a start I realized Zinka was not sleeping nearby in the lounge room, her favorite spot. I grabbed a flashlight pulled on my coat and wandered outside the house. I called her name, whistled...but heard nothing. I was worried and didn't know what to do. I hated the thought that she had been forgotten, that she was wandering the streets in the dark and rain.

I was drying off in the kitchen when suddenly the only partially shut backdoor flew open with a bang against the wall and a wet black bundle skidded across the tiles, crashing into my legs. 'Zinka!!! Where have you been darling??' She just panted, shaking the wet off her fur. But she was clearly distressed as I patted her down with paper towels and tried to warm her up. She was soaked through and obviously shaken by her experience of being accidentally locked out.

'Zinka, babe, this is what happens when you sneak out of the house like that! You silly thing.' I told her

She whined and followed me around the house like a scared child. I sighed, took pity on her and took her upstairs to my bedroom. She didn't want to be by herself that night. However this proved to be a big mistake. I got into bed turned off the lights and tried to fall asleep. Zinka parked on the rug next to my bed let out a strange needy whine, like a pig trying to play the trombone. I reached out my hand and gave her wet skull a reassuring pat. But when I stopped she made the same sound again. I patted her again, more impatient this time.....and sure enough when I retracted my arm the strange 'Weeeee-errrrr-iiiiiiii-UMPH' was made again.

'Zinka, love look here, I can't sleep when you make that ridiculous noise!' I scolded. But she was mildly hysterical and before I knew what was happening she had levered her big damp body onto my bed. I ended up taking her back downstairs to sleep by herself, she wasn't going to calm down staying in my room, the poor thing.

***

Zinka and I had some beautiful moments keeping each other company. When I dropped off the 7 year old to Catechism by bicycle Zinka pounded through fields and dirt roads behind us, her eyes matching the color of the baked straw around us. When we got to the highway she scared the living daylights out of me by choosing to cross seconds before a trailer truck roared its way past us. I moved the shaky hands from my eyes and spotted my strange, independent Zinka calmly waiting for me on the other side of the road. She then sat with us in the blossom filled courtyard of the local church before class started. She sat in the shade, sniffed daisies, had her belly scratched by the children and gave my sweaty ankles an affectionate albeit slobbery lick. It was so nice to peddle along in Pisa and to look down and see the black blur of Zinka running along with me.

I also took Zinka with me to run ordinary errands I didn't want to do by myself like getting a new sim card for my phone. This being a longer walk than normal with more traffic I put her on the lead. She appeared calm and content but being on the lead only thinly veiled her unpredictable independence. When I had to go into the shop I attached her lead to a nearby street sign, gave her a pat and left her there. While waiting in the shop to be served I took a quick look out the window to see how Zinka was going. To my embarrassment she was being socially awkward again, straining on her lead and panting with her mouth open displaying her huge teeth, trying to reach passersby on the pavement as they inched their way around her looking terrified. With her disarming orange gaze and stealthy speed she often alarmed people....oh Zinka...

***

When I decided I had to leave Pisa I seriously wondered what was going to happen to Zinka. As I spent so much time with her and was often in charge of feeding her she had come to absolutely dote on me. Simply the sight of me entering the garden had her squirming on the ground in silly happiness. She was independent but she was also the type of dog that delighted in physical attention. Once I started patting her she would have been content for me to never stop.  I have always taken the emotions of animals seriously and worried she would miss me and the attention I gave her that the other family members were more often than not too busy to provide.

When I left the house in Pisa I couldn't bring myself to look at her for fear of meeting her big orange eyes. When my two dogs in Sydney see suitcases or packing of any kind they automatically go into 'oh-shit-we-are-being-abandoned-again mode' and genuinely do their best to make us feel guilty as hell. With Zinka though, she just watched with an intelligence I found unbearable as I closed the front gate behind me. As I looked back I felt sad that Zinka had been witness to such a sad departure and that no doubt due to her sensitive nature she would experience a sadness she would not be able to describe to anyone.

Then again, I am sure she is back to stalking strangers and sneaking out of the house, her favourite pastimes. As long as she doesn't get accidentally locked out again I am sure she will continue to thrive being independent; being the lone wolf that she is she knows how to make an art of it.