The air is thick with scents, and the forest itself seems to exude a sense of calm. Rumors suggest these mountains are infested with bears and ravenous wolves , but looking around, there's nothing to suggest danger. Yet the danger is there, even if, as often happens, it takes different forms than we expect.
The scene unfolds too quickly for Silvia to intervene: Ares moves away a couple of meters, sniffs the grass, puts something in his mouth, and swallows it in an instant. Within minutes, he begins to show signs of discomfort and fatigue: he vomits repeatedly, drinks water continuously, and by the time he reaches the valley, he struggles to stand. The local veterinarian interprets the signs as simple gastroenteritis, but during the night, the situation worsens. At five in the morning, another rush to the veterinary clinic, where blood tests provide a grim verdict: Ares has been poisoned. What he swallowed was bait left there deliberately by someone, most likely in the hope of killing a wolf.
It's August 9th, and Silvia doesn't even have time to consider that it's her birthday. On the advice of her doctors, she heads to Padua to reach a specialized clinic, but when she arrives, the dog's condition appears desperate. Toxicology tests and X-rays reveal a horrifying reality: Ares's body contains nails, glass shards, and a substance called ethylene glycol.
It is a readily available alcoholic compound, commonly used as a coolant and antifreeze. It has a sweetish taste but is highly toxic to humans and animals. If ingested, even in small doses, it is rapidly absorbed by the body, causing neurological symptoms and severe kidney failure.
Silvia is exhausted, scared, confused, yet she doesn't think twice. A friend comes to help, loads Ares into the car, and rushes to Switzerland, where the dog arrives already in a coma. The doctors try everything, but in the morning, after a night of agony with no signs of improvement, they can only recommend euthanasia.
After two days of ordeal, Silvia finds herself saying her final goodbye to her dog via video call , torn apart by anger and grief. She watches in shock as Ares's body still moves slowly, kept alive by a mechanical ventilator, and as the moment comes to unplug him, a single, stunned question echoes in her mind: why?
What you've just read is a true story, and it's far from an isolated case. Every year in Italy, hundreds of animals die in excruciating pain after ingesting killer baits and morsels , collateral victims of a merciless war waged by a few reckless individuals against wolves, bears, foxes, birds of prey, and other wild animals considered pests.
A more common practice than you might think, spreading poison to kill an enemy, is constantly on the rise despite being rarely discussed. Many poisoning incidents occur in isolated areas and go undetected or reported, often for fear of further retaliation.
This is why Silvia shared her experience with me: to turn Ares's death into a tool to raise awareness, in the hope that no one will ever have to experience a similar tragedy again because of a danger they were unaware of.
Her desire for justice drove her to file a complaint, but it was the lawyer who assisted her who explained to her that there wasn't much she could do legally. She also suggested she share her story to break the silence on a criminal phenomenon that threatens the well-being and health of all of us.
In our country, the use of poisoned bait, like trapping tools such as snares and leghold traps, was outlawed in 1977 with the hunting reform, which sanctioned the transition of wild fauna from "nobody's property" to the inalienable property of the State, protected and safeguarded.
Subsequently, other laws, decrees and ministerial ordinances ( the last of which was issued in 2025 ) have reconfirmed the absolute ban on the use of traps and poisons throughout the country, underlining how the presence of toxic substances dispersed in the environment, in addition to indiscriminately affecting pets and endangered species, represents a serious factor in environmental contamination and a concrete risk for the human population.
One of the worst aspects of this practice, in fact, is that the poison doesn't just kill the animals that ingest it directly. In nature, the carcass of a dead animal quickly becomes food for many other animals, and in this way some poisons can enter the food chain and persist in the environment for a long time, causing secondary poisonings and affecting an incalculable number of species.
A case in point is what happened in May 2023 in the province of L'Aquila , in a particularly ecologically sensitive area, frequented among other things by the very rare Marsican brown bear, where the carcasses of nine wolves, two ravens and five griffon vultures were found in one fell swoop, all dead following poisoning.
The wolves killed in Cocullo, Abruzzo, in May 2023
This is just one of many news stories in recent years involving pets and particularly protected wild species. Data collected at the regional level by the Experimental Zooprophylactic Institutes highlights how, from the early 2000s to today, the number of poisonings has increased practically throughout Italy , with different causes and modalities from region to region.
In some ways, the situation appears to have actually worsened compared to the past. While until the 70s, the use of poisons was regulated and subject to restrictions, such as the requirement to report the presence of baits to protect human and pet health, today many areas of the country seem to have fallen into a sort of Wild West where no one is truly safe.
In recent days, I spoke with Mattia Colombo, a park ranger in the Maritime Alps and coordinator of the Piedmont anti-poison dog unit. One of Mattia's tasks is to patrol the area for bait, aiming to defuse any potential dangers before anyone gets hurt. This preventative work is possible thanks to the keen nose of Argo , a French Pyrenean Pointer with whom Mattia has been a constant companion for a couple of years.
Mattia and Argo. Photo by Anna Boschiazzo
Poison control canine units are specialized teams composed of human operators and dogs trained to recognize various types of toxic substances, similar to drug or explosive detection dogs. The difference is that they work in particularly challenging conditions: in addition to sniffing out odors and resisting the temptation to touch specially prepared treats, these superdogs must navigate unpredictable natural environments, ignoring wild animals, scents, and distractions of all kinds. All of this requires extensive and continuous training, necessary to face diverse and ever-changing scenarios.
In Italy, anti-poison units have been operational since the early 2000s, initially aimed at addressing poisoning incidents linked to the return of wolves . Over time, the tasks of these teams, which operate at the local level under the authority of the Carabinieri Forestry Corps, Provincial Police, or protected areas, have expanded to adapt to the changes of a rapidly evolving phenomenon. With the multiplication of targeted species and the increased opportunities for conflict between humans and wildlife, the focus has shifted from wolf protection to a general "anti-poaching" mission.
Piedmont and Liguria Anti-Poison Dog Unit. Photo by Capellino Foundation
The work they are called upon to do is not easy. First, because of the very nature of the threat, which anyone can carry out with extreme ease and minimal risk. In most cases, the morsels are prepared by contaminating meat with readily available substances, such as over-the-counter medications, herbicides, or legal poisons used against mice and snails. The chance of being caught red-handed is almost zero, and the evidence for conducting a post-fact investigation is often flimsy.
As if that weren't enough, on the rare occasions when the perpetrator is brought to court, the outcome of the proceedings is far from certain. According to Mattia, the problem isn't so much the severity of the penalties, but their actual applicability. In court, compared to murders and robberies, poaching crimes are often treated as marginal issues, and environmental regulations themselves are unfamiliar to those accustomed to dealing with other types of crimes. The result is that many cases stall and perhaps never reach a verdict, fueling the perception of a lesser offense and effectively creating a dangerous gray area of impunity.
A striking example of this state of affairs came in recent days from the Avezzano Court, where procedural errors committed by the prosecutor's office in the criminal proceedings against the killer of the bear Amarena have caused yet another halt in the trial, with the increasingly concrete risk of reducing the entire proceedings to a farce.
Prevention, according to Mattia, remains the most effective tool to combat a plague that has recently taken on even more disturbing implications. The use of poison has expanded far beyond human-wildlife conflict. It appears increasingly frequently in urban settings, in feuds between truffle hunters, in village squabbles, in private vendettas against a dog that barks at night or a neighbor's cat that pees wherever it wants. A seemingly decisive shortcut that finds its way whenever the ability and will to build forms of coexistence wanes.
A wolf killed by poison
The phenomenon of poisoning, Mattia argues, no longer represents just a danger to animals: it has become a public safety issue. A largely underestimated risk that threatens dogs, cats, donkeys, horses, and even our children. Just think of the killer baits thrown into private gardens and those found in city parks, or the fact that some of the substances used are volatile and can cause serious poisoning even through simple inhalation.
Mattia is convinced that the phenomenon must be fought at the local level , where the deployment of anti-poison units familiar with the local area and its critical issues can achieve significant results. However, a greater presence is needed: more resources, greater coordination between regulatory bodies, and more dedicated personnel.
It's clear, however, that effective prevention cannot rely solely on inch-by-inch territorial control by a small number of highly qualified professionals. It must also, and above all, take shape at a cultural level. Hatred of wild animals—and consequently, criminal acts against them—thrives where people are left alone to deal with real conflicts, such as the problems of coexisting with wolves, bears, or wild boars, and the resulting damage and frustration.
In the absence of coexistence projects capable of providing concrete support, the voids left by the institutions fill with resentment , and the poison spread in the public debate by irresponsible politicians to exploit discontent ends up transforming, literally, into real poison.
Mattia and Argo during training. Photo by Alfonso Lucifredi
Conversely, where conflict is recognized, addressed, and managed sensibly, the poison recedes. Canine units demonstrate that another path is possible. They demonstrate that coexistence is not a utopia: it is a daily effort based on expertise, local presence, and shared responsibility.
But shared means we're all involved . It's impossible to combat such a subtle and pervasive social phenomenon if fear, silence, and resignation reign within communities.
Poisoning is a symptom of the global climate we are experiencing , of the increasingly unhealthy way we relate to animals, landscapes, and other human beings. However, it's important to remember that these behaviors are carried out by an extremely small minority of people. The key, then, is action. While these people act, those who are horrified by such acts—that is, the vast majority of us—cannot remain silent and limit themselves to expressing outrage.
Argo and Mattia's work, and Silvia's gesture of denouncing and reporting, perhaps embodies the most concrete image of what is needed today: greater civic sense and action . Because coexistence is not a slogan or a utopian ideal to be defended with words, but the most mature and effective response we can give to the problems of our time. It is the arduous choice to acknowledge the existence of others and to navigate conflicts without shortcuts, using rational tools of listening and prevention. It is a practice that costs time, resources, and energy. But it is the only alternative to intolerance, which otherwise risks poisoning us all.
Before saying goodbye, I want to thank Mattia for his time and Silvia for sharing her experience with me. It wasn't easy for her to talk about such a dramatic episode again, after so much time. I hope her courage serves as an example, because it is from these actions that a collective response to the poison polluting our lives can begin. Reporting a poisoned morsel, a suspicious carcass, or illegal behavior isn't snitching: it means caring for the places we live in, the animals and people who inhabit them, and, most importantly, ourselves.
Finally, I remind you that Rendez-vous was created to be an open and shared space. If you've had encounters or stories worth sharing, please write to me at rendez-vous@iononhopauradellupo.it
And that's all for this episode. I hope you'll help me spread the word and make this topic known to as many people as possible.
We'll meet again here in a month. At our usual rendezvous.