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There’s something magical about traveling with a dog. The suitcase is barely zipped, and those watchful eyes already know: adventure is coming. I often joke that packing for Hana is almost the same as packing for my teenager—just swap the headphones for squeaky toys and the snacks for chew sticks.

Our first stop wasn’t the Duomo or the Galleria, but Parco Sempione, where Hana, our Shiba Inu, could finally stretch her legs after hours in the car. She ran, sniffed, and looked utterly pleased with life — the canine version of that first sip of coffee in the morning.

I woke up to the kind of view that makes you forget to breathe for a moment — the Matterhorn, standing proud and impossibly perfect, framed right outside our hotel window. My coffee steamed gently in my hand, but I hardly noticed. It’s not every day you wake up to the mountain from the Toblerone bar logo, and I wasn’t about to rush it.