Kaya & Jila: The Shiba Philosophers of Podere La Svolta

Kaya & Jila: The Shiba Philosophers of Podere La Svolta

Every home in Tuscany has its own character. Some have vineyards, some have olive trees, some have stone fireplaces older than memory. Podere La Svolta has all of these—but it also has Kayla and Jila, two Shiba Inus who have quietly appointed themselves as the real custodians of the property. If you’ve ever met a Shiba Inu, you know they are not like other dogs. They are not Labradors with their constant enthusiasm. They are not Border Collies desperate for a job (even though I myself have two Australian Shepherds at home in Sardinia). Shibas are a category of their own. They are fox-like philosophers with a love for routine, selective affection, and a firm belief that humans exist mainly to meet their needs.

Jila, the elder stateswoman, begins each morning with an inspection of Podere La Svolta as though she is verifying the structural integrity of Tuscany. She walks with purpose, nose low, eyes sharp, tail curled like a question mark that means, “Are you sure you did everything correctly yesterday?” Her approval is silent, subtle, and strangely satisfying. Kaya, on the other hand, approaches life with strategic charm. She negotiates. Every request comes with a pause, a consideration, and a moment where she decides whether this aligns with her personal vision for the day. Her sense of timing is impeccable. Her standards, high.

Living with both of them has taught me something funny and deeply true:
Animals understand Tuscany faster than humans do.

From their first days here, they adapted to the rhythm effortlessly. They know when the light hits the terrace best. They know exactly when the neighbour starts preparing lunch (and when to position themselves for accidental parmesan drops). They understand the language of silence, the warmth of the soil, the elegance of slow afternoons. Guests always ask the same question: “Are they always this expressive?”

Yes. Shibas don’t bark unless there is a world-ending emergency. But they communicate constantly—with looks, sighs, opinions, pauses, and an impressive ability to make you second-guess your choices. They have become a part of the Podere La Svolta experience in a way I didn’t expect. I’ve watched couples sit on the terrace in the late afternoon, a glass of wine in hand, and slowly gravitate toward Kaya as if she’s a therapist. She listens. She gives a slow blink. And somehow, people feel heard. Jila, meanwhile, wanders between guests like a small diplomat, offering micro-moments of connection. A head tilt here. A quiet sit there. Just enough to make you feel chosen, but always on her terms. There is something grounding about their presence. Their routines remind us to slow down. Their independence reminds us to allow space. Their opinions remind us that everything has personality—even dogs, even days, even places.

Running Podere La Svolta comes with endless details—guest arrivals, evening dinners, seasonal shifts, harvest cycles. But Kaya and Jila bring a sense of gentle structure. They anchor the mornings. They soften the transitions. They make the house feel more like a living being than just a beautiful property in Tuscany.

Visitors leave with memories of sunsets, wine, conversations, landscapes… but they also leave talking about the dogs.

“Kayla’s eyes.”
“Jila’s attitude.”
“The way they walked us to our room every night.”
“The way they claimed the garden like royalty.”

These dogs have become part of the story here—not mascots, not pets, but tiny, dignified personalities that complete the atmosphere of Podere La Svolta. In a place where life moves slowly and beautifully, they remind us daily to pay attention, to breathe, and to enjoy the rhythm of the land.

And comunque… we wouldn’t want it any other way.