One winter, years ago, we began to see the tracks of an all-terrain-vehicle throughout the ravine trails.  One day we followed the tracks as they led out of the ravine, up a nearby street and into the driveway of a house.  We knew whose house it was, knocked at the front door, and spoke to the wife of the man who ignored the signage warning that motorized vehicles were forbidden entry to the neighbourhood ravine.

We knew them, a young couple living nearby with their Golden Retriever pup named "Crook".  Named thus because of the crook in his tail.  Crook was a rare, truly emotional dog, needing to be cared for with plenty of physical contact to reassure him of his enduring value.  And his humans - she, in any event - fulfilled his need for that reassurance; he was her first 'baby'.  Three more, human babies, eventually followed in fairly rapid succession.

These were people whom at first we saw often in the ravine with their dog, and increasingly less so, as they settled into becoming a family extended eventually by the appearance of their children.  From time to time, over the years, we would see her with her growing brood walking the trails in the ravine.  At first, pushing an infant stroller as far as the geology would permit, on the areas that were relatively flat. 

We enjoyed her company, a lovely woman with a broad, engaging smile, eager to talk about her children.  And her beloved Crook was always nearby.  Crook could tell when someone he knew was approaching and anyone approaching who knew Crook could tell when he was about.  His idiosyncratic voice was unmistakable.  His anxiety not to miss greeting a friend, his anxiety to be greeted by a friend, was emoted in a characteristic high-pitched whine, a pleading to be noticed.  It wasn't possible not to notice Crook.

A few years ago Crook was lost to them through natural cause; old age and the eventual ingathering of the Grim Reaper took its course.  The family acquired a new companion, a rambunctious (like Crook) Husky who was shy and mute (unlike Crook).  Now, it was mostly the children who took the new dog for walks in the ravine.  We see them on occasion, just as on the rare occasion we may come across their mother on a walk of her own.

Two days ago after the lapse surely of a year, back to last summer, we came across the oldest of the children, 15-year-old Anna, walking the family Husky.  She is a tall, wholesome-looking beauty with a ready flash of a smile just like her mother, though her facial features bear more resemblance to her father. 

Seeing her, speaking with her, was an absolute tonic, a bonus, making our day just a little brighter than it already was.