When we set out on our hike in mid-afternoon today, the temperature was a nice 0.7C, quite a departure from yesterday's -10C, exacerbated by wind, although the sun was out. It was a terribly cold day and we felt the effects of both the icy temperature and the wind on our bare faces, even infiltrating our warmest winter jackets. It had snowed yet again overnight and kept snowing throughout the day today, mostly light flurries, alternating from time to time to heavy-duty snow. We shovelled out the pathways in the backyard before breakfast for Jackie so he wouldn't have to flounder in its accumulated depths. The snow was so light and fluffy it hardly took much physical effort.

 

By the time we set out for the forest, there was yet another accumulation on top of the snowpack that has been steadily growing this week with most days offering ongoing snow events. It was also one of those times when the snow became heavier as we plodded up the snow-packed street. By the time we reached the ravine and left street level it became evident that the milder temperature and beauty of the landscape had drawn a good number of people from the larger community into the forest.

 

 

There were dogs big and small everywhere, trailing their humans or breaking track in front of them. So many of them were familiar to us, just as we were to them, and they demonstrated that familiarity by settling down in front of Irving as he fumbled with his cookie pack. They're so well behaved. There are times when the excitement of anticipation of a treat will stimulate one or another of them to leap onto Irving's chest, but a quiet remonstration usually sees them settling back down. 

 

It was also one of those times when we saw a family with small children out with sleds, the children delighted to be out, seeming to prefer rolling in the snow rather than trundling downhill in a parent-controlled haul. Their shrill shouts of joy in the season gave ample reason why winter is favoured by the young.

A half-hour after entering the forest we suddenly looked up to the sky, astonished to see a wide blue canopy above and the sun making its entrance. The weather forecast for the day mentioned the snow would stop around five. As it was, great clumps of snow lay everywhere on conifer boughs and naked branches of deciduous trees. There was little wind, not enough to disturb the smooth lengths of mounded snow on the trees. Tree trunks were plastered with snow, and the forest floor resembled a stark white coverlet lulling the forest to sleep.

 

A half hour later we suddenly realized that snowclouds had moved back in and it was once again snowing. As we progressed through the trails the snow became heavier. Most people out with their pups seem to see the utility of dressing them for the cold, including some who thought boots would also be a good idea. We came across one individual we'd never seen before with a miniature-sized pup completely unclad and gave him our street address, offering a winter coat for their pet, but they said the 4-year-old hated to be dressed.

 

 

Others we came across whom we haven't seen in several weeks asked about our missing Jillie and we had to explain yet again, painfully, that we'd lost her several weeks back to congestive heart failure. She had been coughing for quite a while and we thought she had a virus like kennel cough. When we took her to our veterinarian clinic the vet who examined her said, no not kennel cough, gave her a thorough examination, mentioning she had a heart murmur, which we've always known. Both she and her brother were diagnosed with heart murmurs many years ago. They're now 13. He gave us a prescription for an antibiotic just in case, and we put them through a 10-day course of antibiotics.

 

A week later we took them for their scheduled two-month grooming at the spa next to the veterinarian clinic. As usual, we did the grocery shopping and then picked them up, shampooed and groomed and brought them home. An  hour later, Jillie was coughing heavily, and seemed to be having difficulty breathing. We gathered them both up and drove to an emergency animal hospital closest to us. They looked after her immediately. The examining vet told us her stomach cavity was filled with liquid, her heart condition had suddenly become acute, affected her liver, and there was nothing they could do to save her.

 

 

In her absence Jackie seemed lost, unstable, psychologically frail. In fact, exhibiting much of the confusion and disbelief that we felt ourselves, at the loss of his sister. We haven't left him alone since. We've scheduled an ultrasound of his heart to determine the state of his heart chambers in case there is anything we can do to forestall a similar catastrophe for him. 

 

When people ask about Jillie's absence, we explain the reason, what had happened, and they offer their consolations, but speaking about it, hurtles us back into grief over her absence. Memory of her joy in life, her antics, her very personalized persona, her emotional needs and even the last time -- not more than few days before her breakdown -- when she and her brother indulged in one of their stand-up wrestling matches and they were so full of life together. It tears me apart.

 

A half-hour after it began snowing again, the wind suddenly picked up, bellowing and howling through the ravine; unusual since the forest canopy usually serves to shield us from wind that is evident at street level. Snow was tossed everywhere, great sheets of opaque veils blowing off the trees to such an extent that it became a complete white-out with almost zero visibility. It was at that point that we ascended the last of the hills to make our way back home.