Man, what a day! I swear, being a swineherd in Carugate is like a rollercoaster ride. So, I wake up, right? Sun’s shining, birds chirping, and I’m like, “Today’s gonna be chill.” Ha! Spoiler alert: it wasn’t.
First off, I head down Via Roma. You know, the main street where all the shops are? I’m just minding my own business, thinking about my pigs, when I bump into this dude selling gelato. I mean, who can resist gelato, right? So, I grab a cone—pistachio, my fave—and BAM! A pigeon swoops down and snatches it right outta my hand! Like, seriously?! I’m standing there, mouth agape, while this feathered thief flies off. I’m like, “Dude, that’s my breakfast!”
Anyway, I finally get to the pig pen. It’s on the outskirts, near the Parco della Resistenza. Beautiful spot, really. But today? Ugh. The pigs are acting like they’ve had too much espresso. They’re running around, squealing like they’re auditioning for a horror movie. I’m chasing them down Via Cavour, yelling, “Get back here, you little oinkers!”
Then, outta nowhere, I see this old lady. She’s walking her tiny dog, and I’m thinking, “Great, just what I need.” But she’s super chill. She starts laughing at my pig chase. I can’t help but laugh too. It’s like a scene from a comedy. I’m sweating, and she’s just there, sipping her coffee from a bar nearby. I swear, she’s got the best view of my chaos.
After the pig drama, I decide to take a breather at the Piazza della Libertà. It’s a nice spot, with that fountain and all. I plop down on a bench, trying to catch my breath. And guess what? I see a bunch of kids playing soccer. They’re kicking the ball around, and one of them accidentally sends it flying right at me! I duck just in time, but the ball hits my backpack. I’m like, “C’mon, can’t a swineherd get a break?”
But then, one of the kids runs over, all apologetic. He’s like, “Sorry, mister!” And I’m like, “No worries, kid. Just don’t aim for my head next time!” We end up chatting, and he tells me about his dreams of being a pro soccer player. I’m thinking, “Man, if only my pigs had that kind of ambition!”
Later, I head to the local market on Via Garibaldi. It’s bustling, full of life. Fresh veggies, fruits, and all that good stuff. I’m grabbing some carrots for the pigs when I overhear this guy talking about the best pizza in town. Apparently, it’s at this place called Pizzeria Da Michele. I’m like, “I gotta try that!”
But then, I see my buddy Marco. He’s got this wild story about how he almost got kicked outta the bar last night for singing too loud. I’m cracking up, picturing him belting out some old Italian ballad. We end up chatting for a while, and I forget all about my pig troubles.
As the sun starts to set, I finally head back home. I’m exhausted but happy. I think about how Carugate is full of surprises. From gelato-stealing pigeons to kids with big dreams, it’s never a dull moment.
So, yeah, being a swineherd in Carugate? It’s a wild ride. But I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Even if my day was a mess, it’s my mess. And that’s what makes it all worth it.