The first few days after we brought Jack and Jill home coincided with a brief mild-temperature spell with daytime highs of minus-7 degrees and episodes of light snow. We began taking them out to do their peeing and pooing on a fairly regular basis; after naps, after mealtimes, first time in the morning, last thing at night, and they were initially delighted at the freedom before them to romp and scamper in the snow. They did discover that snow equals cold, but they also discovered that they like the taste of it.

In those first few days there was only one 'accident' between them per day. All their business was dispensed with neatly out in the backyard when they paused long enough from racing about the cleared pathways to attend to their bodily needs to evacuate. We were immensely pleased and praised them no end. They seemed pleased as well. They respond instantly to their names, and that's progress too.

When they rip through the house in occasional spasms of energetic enthusiasm those tiny feet supporting close to four pounds of flesh and sinew and a very precocious brain seem to thunder over obstacles in their raceway. They tussle with one another, and wrestle, and nip each other and have a rip-roaring time of it. Until they exhaust themselves and have a blessed nap.

We took them out to the ravine yesterday for their first ravine walk. They were dressed in the very smallest of jackets which were still too large for their delicate frames. And they wore halters so we could have firm control in guiding them along the snowy trails. I imagined they wouldn't do too much trotting along, and since this was their first time on leash, there was some lack of enthusiasm at hampered freedom and insistence on walking a straight path. But despite this they managed to walk along well enough for a half hour, longer than we'd anticipated, but yesterday was a sunny day with a high of around minus two, a superb winter day. They did get a little tired, their feet did get a little cold, and we carried them back.

Then we took them straight to the backyard to see if they needed to evacuate, before heading to the airport for our son's 4:30 p.m. flight to Vancouver. That's when the weather turned dramatically, with what seemed to me like hurricane-force winds bringing in a true Arctic chill. And last night the temperature plummeted to minus-24 degrees.

When we took them out first thing this morning it had risen by one degree. Needless to say, at minus-23 degrees tiny paws freeze. An interruption by necessity of our house-breaking schedule.