Button was our companion in outdoor adventures for almost twenty years. She was a little dog invested in exploring the unknown, and she was fascinated by water. When we took her canoeing with us it was the water that drew her attention, and she couldn't wait to get into it. She was exuberant, swimming through the water.

Once out of the water she had to work out that exhilaration by fiercely running through the woods alongside any lake we'd take her to, until she was exhausted, but delirious with joy.

Poodles, even miniature poodles like her, after all, are water dogs by breeding. Our toy poodle, Riley, on the other hand, isn't fond of either being submersed in water or swimming. Although when he was a puppy I waded out holding him, into a lake then dropped him into it and he swam unerringly as swiftly as he possibly could, to the shoreline and out of the water.

Button luxuriated in water. When she was young we bought her one of those small plastic backyard swimming pools meant for a child and she loved it on a hot summer day when we filled it for her. She would even leap occasionally into a stone birthbath we maintained in our backyard.

Lakeside, we would toss pebbles for her to retrieve. She never failed to bring back the very stone we had thrown for her; its odour from the oily grasp of our hands and from her own retrieval likely identifying it for her. She was as addicted to stone-retrieval from a lake, as she was retrieving her favourite tennis ball when it was thrown for her, inside or out of the house.

Bathtime was an occasion she enjoyed, unlike Riley who always shuddered with fear and loathing during the exercise. Except for yesterday, the middle day of a week's heat wave, when I prepared a nice warm bath for him and for the first time ever, he too luxuriated in its cool, cleansing comfort.