Please, note The Look. This is The Dog's...

I know that you are sending me far away and with only that Short-person as My Guide & Protector!

And, My Look back said...

Why, yes, Darling Dog, I am... off to Sardinia you will go. And, by the way, that Short-person's name is Roberto. Please, do try to get this straight because, he will be at the command of your leash for a good many hours on your imminent voyage across the Mediterranean Sea.

But, don't you remember Sardinia? It is where, two years ago, you gorge yourself on washed-up-on-the-icky-shore-gunk-mixed-with-tuna-fish oil, cleverly deposited by a friend at our picnic, and you had to have several violent intestinal purges the day after which, cost me a pretty Euro at the local vet's. Thank God, the office is on the same block at The Short-person's family's apartment. Don't you recall that? And, after I stayed up all night long watching & hoping you'd shit some of that flotsam you so enthusiastically ingested when my back was turned and all I could do was make horribly expensive cell-phone calls to the US to KILL time. You don't remember?

Or, how about last year, if I am not mistaken, it is the same place where you tried out some Weimaraner calistenics on a retaining wall purposely built to keep characters like you from falling to an untimely & gruesome DEATH on the shoals below and what happened? You sprained your right back leg which, again, cost me a pretty Euro with the bright & efficient vet from the year previous. You can't recall this at all?
Well, I can and so let me give you a word of advice until I arrive on Sunday Noon... don't screw up, Dog!!! Thank you. Gads.