I love dogs.  All dogs.  And it would appear the Czechs do as well.  Nearly every second household on our block has one, and regardless of where you go or what time you go, you will see people out with their dogs.  There are dogs in parks, dogs walking on leash with their owners, dogs walking off leash with their owners. There are dogs on trams, dogs on busses, dogs on trains, in cars and in taxi’s.  There are dogs in the shopping centers, cafés, pubs and restaurant patios.  Big dogs with muzzles, little dogs without.  Everywhere, dogs.  In a city where nearly every landlord allows pets in the flats, nearly every tenant is likely to have one.  Even the homeless have their dogs.

There must be a Czech secret to dog training though as I have yet to see, in nearly 2 years, a ‘misbehaving dog’.  They respond immediately to their owner’s commands.  Sit, stay, lie down, be quiet, come here…(I am assuming those are the commands based on the dog’s response as I have yet to learn Czech aside from what I absolutely need to in order to function here).  You can stop for an espresso or cappuccino at you favorite café and if you take the time to look around at the foot of the tables you’ll notice there are usually a few dogs laying at their owners feet.  Without actually looking for them though you would hardly ever notice them there.  Dogs on trams and busses are equally as inconspicuous.  Lying at their owners feet in between the rows of seats, they quietly watch what’s going on around them, rocking gently to the sway of the bus or tram, moving only when it’s time to get off or sitting up startled and looking indignant while trying to keep their balance when the busses come to a hard stop in order to avoid rolling out the door.

There is a law here that all dogs over a certain size (although I’m exactly sure what size) must be muzzled when out in public. A good rule, since every sidewalk has a few dogs and numerous people on it at any given time and while these dogs are extremely well trained here, they do still like to occasionally bark at, growl at and show other dogs just who’s boss. The muzzles ensure no unsuspecting passerby loses a hand, cheek or pair of ankles to an overzealous dog enforcing his ‘get off my sidewalk’ rule.

As always, an overabundance of anything causes its own unique problems and the sheer number of dogs in this city means an overabundance of doggie doo-doo. Owners here do not leave the house with pooper-scooper and bag in hand, ready to clean up after their wayward pooch. And I have yet to see an owner scold a dog for blatantly pooping on the sidewalk. As we haven’t gotten ourselves a dog yet I haven’t looked into whether there is a law regarding the issue of sidewalk pooping. But, even if in existence, it seems it’s not enforced. Therefore, there is nary a sidewalk in this city without big, small, dried, piled, squishy or squished doggie doo-doo.

What this means for you, the excited tourist gazing up at beautiful buildings and church spires and well-tended gardens is a hard step down into a soft squishy pile of doggie doo-doo and a very smelly walk to your intended destination.

Înconjurate de dealuri şi de râul Vltava, străzile pietruite din Český Krumlov găzduiesc de secole hanuri, magazine şi cafenele.

Situat în partea de sud-vest a Republicii Cehe, acest oraș pitoresc este casă pentru 14.000 de locuitori.

Oraşul a fost creat în jurul castelului fondat de Lorzii Krumlov (familiaVítkovci) în jurul 1253.

Arhitectura Castelul şi a oraşului este un amestec de gotic, renascentist și baroc.

Numele oraşului provine de la termenul german ”krumme Aue” (luncă strâmbă).  În secolul 15, adjectivul ”Český” (Cehia) a fost adăugat pentru a-l distinge de oraşul din Moravia, Moravský Krumlov.

Orașul a cunoscut o perioadă de decădere de la sfârşitul celui de-al doilea război mondial până în 1989, atunci când eforturile de restaurare au început serios, ceea ce a dus la înscrierea sa în Lista Patrimoniului Mondial UNESCO în 1992.