Adventures of Humphrey

07 June, 2026

Buongiorno readers,

This morning something deeply concerning happened.

The hoomans woke up BEFORE ME.

I know. I was just as shocked as you are.

Usually I’m the one launching surprise face-lick attacks at sunrise, but today they were already showered, dressed and bustling about before I’d even properly opened my eyes. Frankly, it was unsettling behaviour.

Dad took me for a quick morning constitutional and we bumped into my lovely neighbour Mela on the stairs coming back from hers. Such a civilised villa community we live in.

Then we all bundled into the car and headed for a place called Pisa.

Readers… absolute chaos.

The second we arrived I knew something was wrong. There were buses EVERYWHERE. At least thirty of them. Hoomans flooding the streets in giant packs following little flags and sticks like migrating geese.

Trying to walk through the crowds with dignity was nearly impossible.

Eventually we reached the famous leaning tower and honestly… it looked like it needed a good shove in the other direction.

Very wonky.

The place was packed shoulder-to-shoulder with tourists, and every second person wanted to stop and pet me or tell the hoomans about the dog they had left at home.

I understand completely.
If I wasn’t with me, I’d miss me too.

We posed for approximately four thousand photographs beside the tower before heading into town for breakfast. By this point the heat had become absolutely offensive.

I stretched out dramatically on cool concrete whenever possible, trying not to melt into a puddle of German Shorthaired Pointer.

But then the hoomans wanted to KEEP WALKING.

Readers… I have never experienced heat like this in my life.

My tongue was hanging halfway to Florence.
My paws felt cooked.
There was no shade anywhere.

I tried weaving from tiny shadow to tiny shadow like a heat-seeking ninja, but eventually even I had to admit defeat. The hoomans finally noticed I was slowly becoming a roasted sausage and marched me back to the glorious air-conditioned car.

Sweet blessed AirCon.
My one true love.

Next stop: Lucca.

Now THIS place was much more my vibe.

Still a walled city, but calmer, cooler and full of lovely shady alleyways with grassy spots for emergency lounging. We wandered around for hours while I slowly regained the will to live.

The hoomans kept admiring the architecture while I admired literally any patch of shade available.

Honestly, Italians are built differently. Thirty degrees and they’re wandering around eating pasta in jeans while I’m fighting for survival.

Eventually we headed back to the villa and readers…

PURE CHAOS ENSUED.

Apparently Figaro had been waiting ALL DAY to see me.

The second Dad pulled into the driveway, Figaro and Mela came charging across the garden like furry missiles. Dad actually abandoned the car halfway because he was terrified he’d run over one of them.

The moment the door opened, Figaro launched himself INTO OUR CAR.

Straight through the front.
Into the back seat.
Into MY personal travel space.

I panicked and leapt out while he bounced around with the energy of ten puppies combined.

Meanwhile I was exhausted, overheated and running purely on vibes and iced water at this point.

Figaro desperately wanted to wrestle and play fetch while I stumbled around like I was punch drunk suffering from heat exhaustion.

Thankfully lovely Ludovica took pity on me and said:
“I think maybe we try again later.”

THANK YOU.

Poor Figaro looked heartbroken, but honestly readers, I could barely feel my legs.

I sprinted upstairs to my beloved sofa and collapsed into the deepest nap of my life until dinner time.

Then Dad announced he was taking me back to the winery from yesterday for a “romantic dinner.”

Naturally I assumed this meant me and Dad were finally having some quality boys’ time together.

Imagine my horror when Mum appeared and SAT IN MY SEAT.

Honestly the betrayal never ends.

Still, the evening was lovely. We sat overlooking the vineyards while the sunset turned the hills golden. Our friend from yesterday welcomed us back, and nearby stood the big horse from before watching us all very suspiciously.

An Italian family arrived with little boys carrying sticks, and I got incredibly excited because obviously they were bringing me toys.

The hoomans ruined everything by saying:
“No Humphrey, those aren’t for you.”

Spoil sports.

After dinner we headed back to the villa, and by this point the temperature had finally cooled enough for me to feel alive again.

Sadly Figaro had already gone to bed, so there would be no late-night wrestling championships tonight. Instead I trudged upstairs, stretched myself across the sofa like the weary travelling prince I am, and rested my aching paws.

Dad took me out one last time before bed and then it was lights out for all three of us.

Tomorrow we’re heading to Florence.

I just pray it’s under thirty degrees or I may actually evaporate.

Buona notte,
Humphrey x