The Biondelli Family

The Biondelli Family. Not my favourite sound. I mean, she’s a nice girl, Flavia, but this does not sound good. I think there’s a reason why her parents say she has to do her practice up here on the top floor. And when I think about the music she likes to listen to, I’m sure she’d be much happier with an electric guitar. But there’s no way her mother would agree to that! Claudia has visions of Flavia gently serenading important guests while she tries to squeeze political donations out of them. That’s Massimo, her brother. I don’t know why he comes up here when he’s practising, but I think he’s lonely downstairs on his own. I’ll go and distract him, give him some company. I’m good company for both of them, I know. And even their father enjoys me sitting on his lap and purring at him. Claudia, though – she worries about my hairs getting on her clothes. Well, I am a long-haired cat. And she chose me. Stefano was all for getting a rescue cat, but she wouldn’t have any of that.
Now that Massimo’s not playing chess, I think the noise has got through to him! Come and see a bit of the house. We haven’t got time for a full tour, (and I’m not encouraged to be on the parents’ floor. Those hairs, you know) but I’ll show you downstairs.
Outside first. This is the courtyard. I quite like watching what goes on from here. There’s some strange new people moved in at La Casa Alta. One of them seems to be a cross between a boy and a porcupine. Claudia won’t let Flavia make friends with him, that’s for sure. If you want a nap out here though, you need these chairs. They’re much softer. This is the living room. My bed gets moved out when they have one of their fund-raising soirees. I get moved out too. Hairs again. The kitchen looks great, but mostly it’s only used for breakfast and for doing homework. They eat out a lot. Looks good on the publicity material though. Here they all are together, just back from the gym. That’s Claudia, with the hairstyle – rich, beautiful and proud of her breeding – she and Stefano are remote cousins, so there’s Biondelli blood on both sides. As far as she’s concerned, she’s achieved perfection – one beautiful daughter who will, naturally, make a good marriage to the right person, and one handsome son to follow in his father’s footsteps. Now she’s climbing the political ladder. Stefano? He’s not super bright except with money and business things. He’s proud of his daughter and his wife. He hasn’t realised yet that Flavia might not want to go along with her mother’s plans for her life. And yes, he thinks everything is pretty much perfect too. Me, I feel sorry for Massimo. He’s just expected to be a carbon copy of his father and take over the business, starting at the bottom of course. His life’s pretty much planned out for him already. A bit like mine, really. Claudia’s talking about mating me with another cat with an impeccable pedigree. But I’ve got plans of my own. Have you seen the ginger tom who lives here? Now there’s a father I could fancy for my kittens. That would put a crimp into Claudia’s perfect life, perfect family plans, wouldn’t it. Something needs to! I think it’s my duty really…

The Brunelli family

The Brunelli Family. This is me, Max. A rather handsome German Shepherd, even if I do say so myself. Here I am, outside my front door. You’d like a view of the whole house? Okay. And here is the house from another angle, that includes my own personal me-only house as well. This is my person, Carlo. And this was our peaceful, idyllic existence. He went to work sometimes, tried to learn to play the drums or bass sometimes, took me for walks sometimes…and then it all changed. “It’s like this, Max.” And then he told me a very long and complicated story about his family history, but he went on stroking me while he told it, so I went on looking at him. I’ll summarise it for you. You don’t want the full version!
Older brother Carlo. Much younger brother Luca. Mother dies and father remarries. Luca goes with them – Carlo already left home. New wife has small child of own, Marco – Luca thinks of him as a brother, Carlo hardly knows him.
Father dies, and so does his wife. Lots of debts, apparently, so no money left.
Okay, so what next? Carlo stopped talking. And he stopped stroking me! And he smelled worried.
“They’ve got no money and nowhere to live, Max. They’re coming here.” I still didn’t really understand all of what he meant. But I soon found out. Those people invaded our peaceful home! And they eat more than I do. Let me introduce you to them… This is Carlo’s younger brother, Luca. He thinks he’s going to be an artist. He certainly dresses the part. Not sure how good he is though. Don’t ask me how his paintings look – we dogs see things differently to the way you humans do. He doesn’t notice much about what’s going on around him! I’d never get away with jumping up onto Carlo’s bed. There could be some advantages here… Yes, technically, this is a human being. Boy, male, and smellier than I’d like. Us dogs have very sensitive noses. And I don’t know why his clothes are full of holes. I know Carlo said they had no money, but still! However, it’s fun hearing him yelp when I put my cold wet nose against his leg. Don’t ask. Just don’t ask. If I could drown that thing, I would. We have sensitive ears, us dogs, and the noises that come out of that thing are painful in the extreme.
The biggest problem though? Well, my human doesn’t earn a lot, but it’s enough to feed the two of us. I don’t think it’ll feed these two as well though. And they haven’t quite grasped that money doesn’t just fall down out of the sky…

The Testarossa family

The Testarossa family Yes, that’s me you can see through the kitchen window. And yes, I’ve been in the flower bed again. Wanna make something of it? That’s one of my staff. Marisa. She’s the mother. Me? I’m Cat. That’s what everyone called me. Cat’s my surname. My first names varied. Shoo Cat. Get Out Of It Cat. Get Lost Cat. Some of them were ruder than that. Then I found these people. And they call me Suppertime Cat. And Come And Be Brushed Cat. And Let Me Stroke You Cat. This is a bit of all right, I can tell you. Here’s another of my staff. Antonia. She’s pretty good at the brushing and the feeding and so on. And if she’s got her nose in a book, she won’t notice me on her bed. Not until it’s too late, anyway. These two? Vittoria and Enzo. Let’s just call them staff in training. They have their moments, but they’re not very reliable yet. And that’s it. There was someone else once – I’ve caught Marisa looking at these pictures, and then she picked me up and cried on me. I am not a handkerchief! I thought about scratching her, but she is the hand that feeds me. Good job they’ve got me now to be the man about the house. They light this fire in the winter – I normally don’t have to ask more than once. Good. I see my bowl’s been filled again. This is it. My place. Now all I need is to find a pretty little she-cat to “spend some quality time with” – know what I mean? – and I’m totally sorted.

The Neri Family

The Neri Family “Here we are,” she says. He’s doing the garden. I can smell peppermint, which I don’t much like. “Did you get one then?” He turns round. “What’s that? I thought we said a small dog.” He sounds like he’s cross with me. “I know,” she says sweetly. “But when I saw her, I couldn’t resist her.” I try to look irresistible for him.
“Her? Her? We said a he-dog! She-dogs have puppies. Now we’re going to have to pay to get her spayed, aren’t we?” But he’s not cross with her. I can tell he loves her very much. He’s cross with me, isn’t he? “Poor girl, she’s had a terrible life so far.”
“Humph,” he says.
“She needs love and affection.”
“Humph!”
“And training.” “Training! And who’s going to do that, might I ask?”
“Riccardo,” she says firmly. “His dog, his responsibility. He’s been saying he wants one, it’s boring just being with us – well, here’s his dog.” She starts watering the plants. I could help with that. Wait a minute – who’s this Riccardo? I find out some more as I listen. He’s another stray they’ve taken in. Their great-nephew. They’ve never had any puppies of their own, so they adopted him. And he sounds like a very ungrateful puppy too. “I mean, look at it,” she says.
We’ve gone inside. I think this is Riccardo’s kennel. It’s a very big one.
“He hasn’t used the table tennis table. Or the table football. Because he needs a friend and he won’t try and make friends.”
Silly puppy, I think. You need friends. You need a pack. “He hasn’t tried painting,” the man agrees. “He needs to be taken out of himself. A dog will do that, if you let her.” The puppy-boy has a nice bedroom. There are pictures of dogs on the wall. Maybe he isn’t all bad. We shall see. He’s at school at the moment. Training school, I guess. I heard about that from some of the other dogs at the dogs’ home. What’s this? I think it’s a dangerous enemy. I better attack it. Death! Death! Death to the enemy! I hope she’s pleased with me for killing this dangerous animal. “Hello Riccardo. Was your day okay?”
He grunts. Maybe human puppies learn to speak very late. No. Next he says something.
“Woz thiz?” Do they speak different languages. “This is your dog. Your new dog. You said you wanted one. Your responsibility – you need to feed her, exercise her, brush her, bathe her if she gets fleas. And train her. She has already ruined today’s paper. She’s on her last chance – if you can’t be bothered with her, she’ll be put down when we return her to the dogs’ home.”
Put down? Put down? I don’t like the sound of that. Put down what? A big sewer or something? I don’t like the sound of that. I go over to the human puppy and sniff him. Does he smell like he could be kind to me and save me from the sewer pipe? He bends down and strokes me.
“Her name is Teresa,” she says. “After the saint. I think the name is the only thing they have in common.”

Chad Hill

Chad Hill This is me, and this is what I do – and don’t – have. The don’t have list is a bit more major, so I think I’ll start there!
I have no papers and no work permit. On the plus side, because I own this piece of land, I am allowed to live here and to have the privilege of paying any bills that come due on it. I do have: one rusty bike. I do have: one tomato. I’ve got who I am – I like being outdoors, which is just as well because there isn’t a lot of indoors here. I’m pretty handy with tools and in the garden, and though I blush to admit it, I’m good at getting people to like me and to give me a little helping hand from time to time. Favourite colour, brown; favourite music, rock; favourite meal, salad, which I can see me eating a lot of, somehow. I do have: one big question. Can I make a life for myself from this starting point? Chad Hill, do you have what it takes? I guess I’m about to find out…