Adventures of Humphrey

10 June, 2026

Buongiorno readers,

Last night was a complete disaster.

An absolute catastrophe.

The room was hot, so the hoomans insisted on keeping the windows open. Sounds sensible, doesn’t it? Wrong.

First there were birds chirping.

Then there were noisy hoomans outside.

Then there were mysterious sounds in the distance.

And, naturally, I had to investigate every single one.

Security doesn’t take a night off.

Apparently Mum and Dad didn’t appreciate my dedication to protecting them because Dad gave me a proper telling off in the middle of the night.

Honestly. Some people simply don’t value professionalism.

Eventually the sun came up and breakfast arrived, which was the first good thing to happen all day.

The breakfast area was busy with lots of hoomans milling about, but I immediately made a very important new friend: a French baby called Samuel.

What a delightful little chap.

I gave him lots of kisses and he seemed absolutely thrilled to meet me. Sensible boy.

Meanwhile the hoomans ate breakfast.

Did I receive any?

Of course not.

At this point I’m beginning to suspect there’s a conspiracy.

Also, readers, if the blog goes a little quiet over the next few days, blame the Wi-Fi. It’s about as reliable as a squirrel guarding a sausage.

Despite being tired from my exhausting night shift, I bravely pushed on and accompanied the hoomans to **Pienza**, another beautiful Tuscan town.

Honestly, every town here looks like it belongs on a postcard.

It was far too hot for anything energetic, so we mostly pottered around at a leisurely pace. The hoomans stopped for coffee — a shocking development, I know — and I found a lovely cool spot on the stone steps in the piazza.

There I sat, enjoying the breeze while watching pigeons and people go about their business.

Frankly, it was a delightful way to spend half an hour.

Afterwards we headed to charge the car and discovered a shopping centre nearby. More importantly, it had air conditioning.

Readers… glorious, glorious air conditioning.

I stretched out on the cool floor and considered never leaving.

Sadly the hoomans had other plans.

Next stop was a wine tasting at a beautiful countryside winery called Palazzo Vecchio.

Now this place had something much more interesting than wine.

Dogs.

FOUR of them.

There was a black Labrador who quickly became my favourite. Then there was Oliver and Simba, plus another doggo whose name escaped me because I was busy making friends.

Oliver was a little bit rude and snapped at my face, which made me jump backwards rather quickly. We did manage a little play afterwards, but I kept one eye on him just in case.

Simba, meanwhile, was clearly the boss.

Whenever Simba barked, everyone moved.

Including me.

At one point he barked and suddenly all the dogs came charging in my direction. Thankfully Mum and Dad were nearby and made sure everything stayed friendly.

Still, I was pleased to discover that even in the Tuscan heat, I remained the fastest.

Some things are simply facts.

The best part was being allowed to roam freely around the property while the hoomans sampled wines and discussed “notes of cherry” and “hints of oak.”

I have no idea what that means.

I joined the vineyard tour instead.

The guide was funny, the scenery was beautiful, and nobody seemed to mind me tagging along with the group. Honestly, I felt like part of the official staff.

Eventually we returned to the agriboutique.

I have to admit… it’s growing on me.

Yes, there’s still no sofa.

But the views are spectacular and I’m beginning to accept my fate.

Back at the room I had some dinner while the hoomans got showered.

Which raises an important question.

How do they get so dirty?

I’ve spent the day running around vineyards with four dogs and somehow they still smell worse than me.

Very suspicious.

That evening we went to the onsite restaurant where the hoomans ordered a charcuterie platter.

Readers, it was torture.

Meat.

Cheese.

Cured meats.

Fresh bread.

And not a single bite for Humphrey.

I even tried looking especially pathetic because earlier I’d split one of my toenails while playing with the vineyard dogs and it was feeling rather sore.

I limped.

I sighed.

I whined dramatically.

I made sure the nice French gentlemen at the next table could hear my suffering.

Nothing.

Not one morsel.

Just a boring dog treat.

Life is unfair.

After dessert Dad took me for a little walk while Mum stayed behind admiring the view.

Halfway through the walk I discovered a stick.

Suddenly my sore toe became considerably less important.

Funny how that works.

The evening had cooled down nicely, and by the time we returned to the room I was ready for bed.

Unfortunately my toe is still throbbing a little, which means tonight may involve another restless shift on security duty.

Overall though?

Another wonderful day.

Beautiful towns.

New dog friends.

Sunshine.

Vineyards.

And lots of adventures.

I could definitely get used to this travelling life.

Buona notte,

Humphrey x