There’s a vibe about Rome that I haven’t felt in any city I’ve been to.
There I was ― a solo backpacker roaming aimlessly at the crux of western civilization, clocking 20 kilometers a day on foot. Incognito for a week, vacations like they should be.
No footsteps to rhyme mine but furry friends, never far.
Ramblings of a dog in Rome
And then there was Frida, the friendly police dog I met in the Vatican city.
See Also: When you see your dog everywhere
Some moments fleet us even as we are living them. In some crevice of your heart, you know that try as you may with every atom of your being, it never lasts.
But there are seasons after summer too. Frida hasn’t forgotten that.
It was on my penultimate evening in Roma (I love how the Italians call Rome) that I met Leo, the dog.
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I’m just a dog at Trevi fountain but the djinns at Ferozshah Kotla know my name Cathedrals have seen the carcass I’ve become and the Vatican has heard my wails Shrines have seen my paw marks and I’ve trampled at temple queues Mecca, I’d have prayed in, if it welcomed dogs And someday if you happen to visit Paris you’d see your name on a lock in Pont De l’Archeveche I’ve wished upon gods, old and new Thrown the very last coin I had in the Ganges wished upon every shooting star (and when I couldn’t find one, I’ve wished for stars to fall) all to find a god that would return me, you.