It sounded quite dreadful and we felt truly badly for the man who was so obviously upset, but we felt far worse thinking about the plight of his little dog. This was a man whom we'd seen occasionally during our ravine rambles, yet another one of many casual ravine acquaintances who make use of the wooded ravine that runs through a neighbourhood suburb of Ottawa. He was walking a single dog, whereas he usually walks a pair. Two black-and-white border collies, a male and a female. On this occasion the smaller of the two, a female, was missing. And he was quick to tell us why.

His wife had earlier in the day taken both their dogs for a ravine walk. The dogs, as usual, race about and enjoy themselves in that freedom setting that all animals adore. The next thing she knew, there was her dog, shorn of part of its tail, bleeding profusely. She rushed home with it and its companion and she and her husband, desperately attempting to staunch the flow of blood, rushed the little dog to the closest veterinarian hospital.

The little dog hadn't yelped, hadn't issued so much as a whimper all the time they were attending to it while they drove it to the veterinarian, nor did it afterward. Dogs are like that, many handle pain and discomfort far better than humans do. They were convinced that it had somehow, in the underbrush and out of sight of its human companion, run into some kind of malevolently vicious carnivorous animal on a hunting spree; it was very early morning and at dawn and dusk coyotes have been spotted in the area.

But the damage had been done to the dog's tail; in other words as it was running away, so how likely, my husband reasoned, was it that another animal would be involved? More likely, he said as we discussed it afterward, was that the little dog had rushed heedless into a place that might have been dangerous to its well-being, too closely confined in the underbrush, resulting in its tail getting stuck and pulled as it rushed on, likely heeding its human companion's urgent call to return.

The fellow had explained to us just how traumatizing it had been for the companion of the injured border collie, to have to leave its beloved buddy behind at the veterinarian hospital for treatment and further scrutiny to determine the extent of the damage it had sustained. The male border collie was puzzled and upset at the absence of its sibling, and the two owners were at a loss to explain what had occurred, and worried about the final outcome for their pet.

Today, as we rounded a part of one of the trails that gives onto a straight-and-narrow portion, we saw ahead two border collies, both of which stopped in the distance and awaited our advance before themselves finally deciding it was safe for them to proceed, and then they sped rorward and gambolled happily about us. Well before that had happened my husband recognized the pair. The smaller of the two had a short tail, the end of which was tightly wrapped for about six inches in length.

When their owner finally caught up he informed us that today was the last day for the little dog's prescription drug protocol. Which had made her constantly drowsy. But now she had recovered fully and was bursting with energy and enthusiasm, clear enough to see in the frenzy of motion that she and her companion treated us to, running about everywhere for pure joy of release.

He told us that his wife had returned to the area where the accident had occurred. She had gone into the space where she felt the little dog had last been and rummaging about in the mass of shrubs and branches, now more withered and leafless allowing greater access, she discovered a crooked low-lying set of branches and between them lay what was left of that portion of her little dog's tail that had been caught and torn away.