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This is the documentary.
I'm Georgia Walker.
One of the first things I noticed since moving to Palermo in Sicily two years ago was the sound of dogs barking.
From lone howls in the distance to fitful bursts of conversation in the night, or waves that travel through the city like dominoes, a message being passed along.
At night, I'd find myself asking, where are all these dogs?
What are they talking about?
And why is no one telling them to be quiet?
I also started noticing lone dogs around the city, hanging around outside bars, napping on street corners, waiting at traffic lights to cross the road.
The first time I followed a dog, it was the beginning of summer and the air smelt like jasmine and hot trash from the street corner.
He walked past me at a pace, his head down a black shadow loping through the alleyways of Palermo.
Without thinking, I went after him.
At a couple of points I almost lost him and then spotted him at the entrance of a baroque Catholic church.
He hobbled inside, faint piano spilling out onto the street, and I went home wondering what I'd just seen.
Not long after, I saw another dog below my balcony, and then I saw him again on the corner where they sell soft drinks, and again heading north toward the university.
I asked my neighbors about this dog, and they told me he had a name, Rocky.
I also found out that Rocky doesn't have an owner, but isn't technically a stray.
In Palermo and all over the south of Italy, there are various types of free dog.
There are the unsocialized packs, dogs that live together in family groups on the edge of villages, rarely coming into contact with humans.
There are the Maremano, sheepdogs that wander the countryside, workers that roam free.