It was a typical winter day at Mas Torrencito, the rural house where dogs are the real protagonists and people have the privilege of being accepted. Wines and laughter at Mas Torrencito
Outside, a torrential rain lashed the landscape. The fireplace in our kitchen had been lit early, and the atmosphere smelled of burning wood, freshly toasted bread and that cozy air we love so much on rainy days. It all seemed to be a quiet day, but with the guests we had that day, nothing could stay “quiet” for long.
Guests and their pug
The only guests that day were a most peculiar couple who had arrived the night before with their pug, Aristotle. From the moment they walked in, you could tell they were not typical tourists: she, holding a bottle of wine as if it were a fashion accessory; he, carrying a bag of cheese that was clearly going to be the star of the evening. Aristotle, meanwhile, moved around the house as if it were his own, exploring every nook and cranny with his wrinkled little face and know-it-all air.
“I hope you don’t mind that we brought something for dinner,” she said, smiling with a mixture of mischief and enthusiasm. Mireia and I, accustomed to the spontaneity of our guests, welcomed them with open arms. After all, when the kitchen becomes the center of the action, laughter is always guaranteed.
The rain and the first toasts. Wines and laughter at Mas Torrencito.
The rain was relentless. From the kitchen windows, we could see how the drops were hitting the glass hard. Our dogs were a bit anxious about not being able to go out in the garden, especially Markos, who always needs action. Manuela, on the other hand, was happy in her favorite corner by the fire. Aristotle, true to his name, was sitting dignifiedly in a chair as if he were just another guest, observing everything with that absurd seriousness that only pugs can have.
We started the evening with wine, of course. “What better way to get through a rainy day?” he said, generously pouring the first glasses. Mireia and I looked at each other and laughed; we knew that night would be anything but boring. The couple brought with them such a light and infectious mood that even the dogs seemed to relax.
Dinner in our kitchen: a delightful chaos
Dinner was completely improvised, as the best ones usually are. While they brought out their cheese and bread, Mireia and I prepared a potato omelet and some local sausages. In between laughs, someone suggested that Aristotle should try a little piece of cheese. “Just a little bit, it’s gourmet,” she said with a mock serious tone, while the pug was already licking his lips in anticipation. Of course, the other dogs were quick to notice and approached with pleading eyes. Moms, the most senior, even got up from her usual spot, something she didn’t do for just anything.
The kitchen was filled with chaos: Markos was jumping around trying to reach some of the bread, Manuela was insisting on sticking her nose in the tortilla, and Masto was chasing Aristotle, who had grabbed a piece of cheese and was scurrying away with surprising agility for his size. Mireia and I were trying to maintain control as the couple laughed uproariously. “This is better than any dinner in a restaurant,” he said, as he tried to rescue a piece of ham from Markos’ jaws.
The highlight: laughter and toasts. Wines and laughter at Mas Torrencito
As the evening progressed and the wine continued to flow, the stories became more and more absurd. The couple told anecdotes from their travels: the time they lost their car in a small town in Italy, or when Aristotle got stuck in a revolving door in a luxury hotel. Between each story, we toasted: to the rain, to the dogs, to life. Aristotle, now clearly in his element, had settled into a cushion by the fireplace, while Manuela watched him with a mixture of envy and respect.
At one point, someone proposed a game: every time one of the dogs did something funny, we had to toast. It was a mistake, because between Markos jumping on the chairs, Manuela trying to steal bread, and Masto chasing his own tail, the glasses kept rising. Even Mamás, who usually kept her dignity intact, decided to join the show by barking at the rain as if to challenge it to a duel.
The deluge and the impossible walk
Towards the end of the evening, someone (we don’t remember who) had the brilliant idea of going out into the garden to “enjoy the rain”. Under normal circumstances, it would have been crazy, but with the mood we were in, it sounded like the perfect plan. Armed with umbrellas, wellies, and scarves, we ventured outside with the dogs. The rain was still coming down hard, and the mud made walking a challenge.
Aristotle, despite wearing a raincoat specially designed for him, planted himself at the door and refused to come out. The other dogs, however, were in their element: Markos was running around like crazy, splashing everyone; Masto was rolling in the mud like a spa; and Manuela found a puddle so deep that she almost disappeared in it. Mireia and I were trying to keep our balance, while the couple, completely soaked, couldn’t stop laughing.
The funniest moment came when he, trying to rescue Masto from a particularly muddy puddle, ended up slipping and falling backwards. “This doesn’t happen in travel documentaries!” he shouted with laughter, while Aristotle, from the doorway, looked at him with the same disapproving expression a teacher would use with a troublesome student.
The return to the kitchen and the perfect ending. Wines and laughter at Mas Torrencito
Completely soaked, we returned to the kitchen, where the fireplace was still burning and the wine was waiting for us. The dogs were exhausted after the chaos in the garden, and one by one they settled into their favorite spots. Even Aristotle, who had kept his dignity intact, ended up curled up next to Manuela on a blanket.
The evening ended with us sitting around the table, toasting once again. “This is what makes this place special,” she said, raising her glass. Mireia and I nodded, smiling. At Mas Torrencito, even the rainiest, seemingly ordinary day can turn into an unforgettable night filled with laughter, wine and adorable chaos.
When they finally went to sleep, leaving Aristotle snoring placidly, Mireia and I stayed a while longer in the kitchen, surrounded by the mess left by a perfect night. “Now this is the life,” I said, and she replied with a smile, “And this, Mas Torrencito.”
From Mas Torrencito we wish you a good day and that your dog accompanies you !!!!
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