Our warm, sunny and dry days enjoyed this past week are gone, replaced by humid, cool, overcast skies that turn to thunder and rain. Yesterday we wore rain jacket; even our two little dogs were outfitted with newly-acquired rain jackets, although while we were out rambling in the ravine there were no serious rain events, merely desultory sprinkles.

Better to be prepared than taken by surprise, as we have been, often enough in the past.

The humid weather has brought the mosquitoes back with a vengeance. We saw fewer dragonflies, though there were more damselflies in evidence, obviously not totally committed to exterminating all the mosquitoes. Little wonder they're there in great numbers, since the low-lying areas of the ravine just recently were able to absorb the huge quantities of rain we'd received in previous ongoing rain events.

On this ramble we came across someone we'd seen in the distance on previous occasions who obviously meant to avoid coming in contact with others, particularly, one supposes, people with companion animals. He had one of his own that we were aware he was determined to protect, and we surmised it was a ferret.

This time he made no move to avoid us, standing directly in the path we were taking, and hovering over a large old tree stump I regularly deposit peanuts on, for the squirrels.

As we approached he picked up his little ferret and he smiled at us, acknowledging my husband's greeting, and then inviting me to approach and pet the ferret, if I felt inclined to.

It was a beautiful animal, a tiny, perfect face with bright and curious little eyes, perky ears, and lovely beige-brown colouration, with silky-soft fur. It was curious enough to sniff my open-palmed hand, then swiftly lost interest, yawning elaborately and frequently, exposing its minuscule teeth and extremely pink tongue.

We stopped awhile to talk, and the ferret was placed, on its leash, on the ground and exhorted to get some exercise: "Don't just stand there, Winston, get going", the man urged. Our miniature poodle seemed uninterested in the presence of the tiny animal, while our toy poodle seemed curious enough, but as is usual with him, at first blush, hostile.

Riley snarled, Winston hissed. Demonstrating his willingness to resolve the conflict in personalities, if necessary, on his own terms.