Conero: Chronicle of a serious walk (for him)

My human decided we needed “real nature.”

That is: climbs, sweat and silence.

I would have voted for the sausage, two vincisgrassi and a nap on the beach, but here one-way democracy reigns.

So here we are at the Conero Park, one of those places where the wind ruffles even your soul and humans become poetic as soon as they see a flower with a Latin name.

At first it was all interesting: new smells, new bushes, new pine cones to avoid (mental note: they are not truffles).

He, loaded as if he were going to cross the Apennines on foot, set off at full speed. I followed suit, even though every five meters I had to remind him that smells should be read, not skipped.

Then came the climb.

And there, friends, it happened.

The man who feels like a pioneer has transformed into a panting marmot with a technical backpack and an existential crisis.

“Go slow Luna… wait… give me a moment…”

I sat down, patient as an old aunt.

And I looked at it.

With the benevolence typical of those who know who is really the trained animal between the two.

At the top, he took out his water bottle (for himself), an apple (also for himself), and uttered the usual phrase:

“Look at that view, Luna! Look at that energy!”

At that moment I was chasing an important smell behind a boulder. Energy, yes. But olfactory.

Then it arrived the other dog.

White, silky, silent.

The type for brunch with a sea view and a linen bow tie.

He pretended nothing had happened.

I do not.

I smelled it with some conviction and then left an olfactory message not to be misunderstood on a nearby trunk.

Welcome to Conero. Show respect.

The return was more thoughtful.

He was talking about “connecting with nature”, I was still thinking about vincisgrassi.

And to the sausage.

And that scent I had smelled earlier: maybe a badger. Or maybe an abandoned picnic lunch.

Both options suited me well.

When we got to the car, I jumped in with the agility of someone on a mission.

He collapsed into his seat with a satisfied face, convinced that he had given me a beautiful day.

And he was right.

But not for his reasons.



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