It never fails. When we chirp 'who wants to go for a walk?', or 'how about going to the ravine?', Jackie is beside himself with high expectation, leaping happily all over us, while Jillie makes herself instantly scarce, hiding her presence under the coffee table. No amount of cajoling will suffice to entice her to come out from under, though she will turn over on her back, legs adangle, enabling us to grasp a leg and haul her out, Jackie joyfully leaping at whoever happens to be hauling her out at any given time.

And the thing of it is, she enjoys those walks. Once she's been prepared, collar and harness, then leash, she is anxious to be off, though by the time he is harnessed and collared his attitude is far more muted. They're not accustomed to wearing their collars in the house, and without the harness, it won't work for them to be leashed only to the collar, they balk and won't move forward. It's the harness connection that works for them on the one hand to walk on leash, and on the other it represents a discomfort they don't accommodate themselves to. Jackie has chewed through more harnesses than we care to recall.

Jackie's incredibly long legs...

That said, once we're out and about they're busy exploring and trotting along comfortably with us. The thing is, neither of them want to be outside on their own in the backyard, for example. It's fenced in and safe, and there is plenty to explore there, as they well know. And being out in the backyard affords them the opportunity to tug off bits of spruce trees which they love doing. And eating, sad to say. They've become inordinately skilled at their version of gardening which constitutes the expert twisting of violets out of the garden bed, roots and all, which they then set about devouring. Why they do this is beyond us. It's part of their fixation on eating anything, plant matter or tougher stuff without any discrimination. And it's how they end up -- Jackie, unfailingly -- ingesting pathogens which land them in the veterinarian hospital.

But the minute one of us ventures outside they're right there beside us, anxious to participate in whatever it is we're doing out there. This morning I went out to snip chives in preparation for puttimg together a potato salad for our evening meal. They're curious to no end about what we're doing. My husband looked at some of the climbing roses to see if vermin were about and did find some of those nasty little worms which he dispatched. They too are a source of great interest to Jack and Jill. If they see beetles or bugs on the wing or creeping about they're instantly interested; Jillie to capture them or moths, and then eat them. Riley, when he was a puppy, used to indulge in this kind of escapade, then outgrew them, and we can only hope these two will as well.

Favourite perch: peeking down through the balustrades

They're little house dogs, and that's where they feel most comfortable. Racing about after one another. Finding things to get into mischief with; retrieving socks, slippers, gnawing contentedly at anything they know they shouldn't be and in the process studiously avoiding their toys and antler-horn chews. They've perfected their methodology of ferreting out facial tissues from pockets. Once they have their treasure, they take it away, knowing if they don't and we see them, it will be taken from them. Then they settle down to happily tear the paper into delightful strips which they can then leave with the satisfaction of a job well done.

Jillie has finally developed enough confidence to make the leaps onto sofas and beds that had always eluded her, so she can now jump up and join Jackie where previously she used to try to bring him down to her height by tugging on his ears as he triumphantly eluded her efforts to overpower him during their jousts. In this household, 'never a dull moment' prevails.