First of all I would like to thank all cynofilist friends for the expressions of love they shared.
My mum was, and not only from the cynofilist point of view, an institution. Her loss reppresents after all, as it is with persons who leave behind them a wake of memories, friendships, deeds and a rich life, the end of an era. And so, again, not only from the cynofilist point of view.
Mum shared with father, since after the war (when they got engaged) and since 1953 (when they got married), a true passion for dogs. Through dad she got to know all the great masters and personalities of our national as well as international cynofilia, from Prof. Solaro to Dr. Cajelli, Count Brasavola to commander Contini, Princess Jolanda of Savoy to Dr. Scanziani, Countesse Maffei to Dr. Granata, Count Gatto to Bosatra, Prince Corsini to Prof. Ballotta, just to name a few. In the world of the Saint Bernard she met all the great personalities of the postwar period, De la Rie, Alois Schmid, Georg Kasten, Hans Zimmerli, Martin Zwerts, Arthur Wessar, Una Westell and many others.
As one can tell she was a different kind of dog-lover, a dog-lover of élite, a sports kind of person who lives for dogs not on them. These people were gentlemen, not as much for birth as for spirit, representatives of a gone society, which memory fades, worn out and swept away by nowadays exasperated and wasteful cynofilia. These ancient dog-lovers certainly had no need of dogs to emerge in life: dogs were for them a genuine hobby, a daily fondness lasting through a lifetime, a reason to get together for sports happenings, to meet new people and gain new friendships. Here you go, my dear Sainbernardist friends, my mother belonged to this world. Nevertheless, it is to say that she never dwelt in the recollection and regret of a world long gone. She kindly detested those who, convinced to ingratiate themselves to her, filled the reminiscence of the past with praise, held the present and the future in low consideration, as filled with obscure premonition. Mum had a constant awareness of the actual present and an optimistic projection towards the future. Never thought of dying, for she loved life: this was the reason why friend's young children who came to visit were so fond of her. She welcomed them with her unforgettable smile, habitual kindness and courtesy.
She graduated in Classic Literature and studied piano at the conservatory for seven years. She was the Honorary Chairperson of the Italian Saint Bernard Club and of the Italian Lagotto Club, honorary member and associate founder of W.U.S.B. and of the FORUM as well as member of E.N.C.I. for more than 50 years. She was in love with beauty, music, arts, in the fullness of the Light of her uncontrollable Faith, she left us silently, with style, as a true Lady.

An embrace and a prayer
Giovanni  Morsiani

Antonio and Maria Leda Morsiani
with the International Champion Vittorio del Soccorso.

  I wish to dedicate this letter to somebody who gave a lot during her earthly life without ever asking for anything in return, constantly teaching the path to take. I belive an era ended, an era unlike no other as for the way of feeling, as for code, manners, style, ways and values that we're going to miss more and more.

Dedicated to Maria Leda Morsiani

A great thought

Perhaps God wants us to encounter a few wrong persons before we meet the right ones, so that when we finally meet them, we'll know how to appreciate that gift.
When the door to happiness closes, another one opens, but at times we stare at the closed one for so long that we don't notice the one that opened for us.
The best kind of friend is the one you can sit under a porch with and take a stroll, without saying a word, and when feels as if you have just had the best conversation of your life.
It is true that we aren't aware of what we have until it's lost, but we also ignore what we miss until it comes along.
Give somebody all of your love and you are not guaranteed to be loved back! Don't expect love in return; wait to see if it grows in their hearts, but if it doesn't, be content that it is growing within you.
It takes a minute to offend a person, an hour to be liked, a day to love, a lifetime to forget. Look for somebody who can make you smile because a smile is all it takes to make a bad day turn into a brilliant one. Find whatever makes your heart smile. There are moments in life you miss a person so much you want to take them out of your dreams and hug them in real life! Dream of whatever you want; go wherever you like; be what you want, because you have only this one life and is the only opportunity you'll have to do what you want to.
You can have enough happiness to make you kind, enough difficulties to make you strong, enough sorrow to make you human, enough hope to make you happy. Always try on somebody else's shoes. If you feel restrained, they probably feel so too. The happiest of people don't necessarly get the best; they just take the best out of anything that happens on their path. Happiness is deceiving for those who cry, for those who hurt, for those who experienced, but only so they can appreciate the importance of people who touched their life. Love begins with a smile, grows with a kiss and ends with tea. The best future is based on oblivion of the past, you can't succeed in life unless you let go of your failures and sorrows. When you were born you were crying and everybody around you was smiling.
Live your life the way that when you go, you go with a smile. Please make sure you get this message to those you care for, to those who touched your life in one way or another, to those you want to show how much you value their friendship. But if you don't, don't worry, nothing bad is going to happen to you, you'll only miss the opportunity to lighten up the day for somebody with this message. In the end, we won't remember our enemies words, but the silences of our friends.


To my friends, Giovanni and his brother, I would like to dedicate a fable a friend of mine wrote for me, but never published.
The Tiny palm tree

The desert is not only made of sand, wind and rock. The bedouin and the camel know every secret of its surface, but only the palm tree has roots that reach so deep to discover hidden springs of water. The Eye of God was just opened and was transforming the desert in a wavy sea as red as blood. And it lit up from below the great palm growing in the centre of the oasis.
«There!... Can you see?. The visitor zoomed with his Nikon camera to the top of the tree and there, dispite any logic, was a great stone that seemed to be squishing its offshoots. The vision didn't last long, for the Eye of God was already rising over the horizon, putting the shadows back to their place. When the stone disappeared in the middle of the green branches, the visitor stopped snapping photos. Then he thought aloud: «Incredible! I came here just to see the Palm tree of the Stone, but I would never expected a palm so tall nor a stone that huge. How could it have happened?». The guide took a long look at the visitor, considering whether to speak or not. Then he came closer to the tree, put a hand on the trunk and begun: «Many years ago this oasis didn't exist, and the Palm tree of the Stone was just a tiny young tree, grown who knows how, among rocks. The Tiny palm loved the light wind of late afternoon as well as the night, with its shadowless darkness. Its life was happy. It knew that there was an endless desert all around it, but it had no fear. The little moisture it got from the sky and the little nourishment it drained from the sand were enough for it to live.
The Tiny palm loved the light wind of late afternoon as well as the night, with its shadowless darkness.
Its life was happy.
Then, one day, a man came. He got lost in the desert and was almost driven mad by thirst. But spotting a green cluster he dragged himself to it, certain to find an oasis. But when he saw that the lonely palm grew from the hand and had not as much as a drop of water for him he got furious and shouted: «Why do you live? Why do you find water and nourishment while I'm dying of thirst? Why do you have it all and I have nothing? If I have to die, you can't live either!» And with strength derived out of despair, he picked up a huge stone and hammered it in the palm's green crown. Then he passed out. He was saved the next day by a caravan. The fan-shaped leaves that used to be shining green, were cut and soon dried up by the sun, while the huge stone weighted heavily on the feeble trunk, threatening to break at any time. But the man didn't succeed in killing the plant, he hurt it but didn't kill it. The terrible breaking of its branches and the torment of the fraying of the leaves turned into an unbearable wave of pain that erased any other feeling in the little palm tree, and then it discovered that from its heart, in spite of the torture of destruction and the pain of the wound, there was rising a smaller wave of strength. The small wave of strength grew as it fought the pain. Then grew some more, stretching the pauses between waves of pain till the sensation of strength overcame the pain. At that point the Tiny palm tried to shake off the huge stone. It begged the wind for help, but nobody was listening and the stone stayed deep in the heart of the Tiny palm.
«Give it up - the palm said to itself - you can't make it. The stone is too heavy and your destiny is to die. Accept it, let go.
but another voice said: «There is not such a thing as "too hard", you have to try, you have to!»
«How could I ever? - answered the Tiny palm - Not even the wind would help me. I am alone in my weakness, I'll never get rid of this stone.»
«You shouldn't try to get rid of it at all, - went on the voice - you should accept its load. You'll see how your strength will grow.»
So the Tiny palm tree stopped waisting energy trying to relieve itself of the burden of the rock and accepted it, as a new part of itself, in the middle of the green crown of frayed, dried up shoots. Then it pushed its roots lower, in the ground, to balance the doubled weight with a doubled prop. The roots bumped into a layer of rocks right away, but the Tiny palm wouldn't give up. It took advantage of any crack, the roots wedged, pushed and made its way till it got to the other side of the layer.
And found water.
A vein of water trying to find a way to reach the surface. Now the Tiny palm gave the vein that opportunity, creating the spring that made that piece of desert into an oasis of refreshment, well-being and joy. The Tiny palm anchored its roots to the rock, and when it was certain its grip was solid and had plenty of water, it started growing tall, spreading its fan-shaped branches over the rock, as if to protect it. Its trunk became more and more robust and the energy it drained from desperation made it grow tall like no other palm before...
Now the stone rests in its heart, but it's a gentle and intimate contact. The palm knows it's the stone it has to thank for becoming, from a tiny common palm, the Palm tree of the Stone; the most beautiful palm of the desert.»
The guide stopped speaking. His hand was still on the tree's trunk, as in a caresse. The visitor noticed his eyes were filled with tears.
«What an odd man», he thought. He still found it bizarre that the owner of an important travel agency would offer to guide him personally to see the Palm tree of the Stone,and more over, get so emotional over a tree!
Unless... «May I ask you - he begun - how do you know all this?
Because I'm the man who tried to kill the Tiny palm. And, whenever I can, I come here to spend some time with it.
And each time it speaks to me and reminds me that the only unbeareble burden is the one we refuse to accept.
But what we do accept becomes an irrefutable part of us.»

Germano squinzi