The sun was out and a nice breeze made it a perfect perambulation in the forest, but the results of overnight thunderstorms were more than evident on the forest floor; the abundance rain puddles that had transformed an ordinary-in-appearance woodlands into a vast bog had received reinforcement overnight.

However, the onset of relentless rain events has also hastened the blooming of many wildflowers and they appear in greater abundance than usual, as well. On the one hand, then on the other hand ... a fairly acceptable exchange.

So we're delighted, though somewhat surprised to see that Queen Anne's Lace and Yarrow are already beginning to bloom, amongst the proliferation of yellow loosestrife, daisies, cowvetch and buttercups, each of them providing a small burst of intense colour to the monochromatic green screen of the forest backdrop.

Our two little black scamps, as usual, nose to the ground, searched for evidence that familiar dogs have been by. They look -- for one day at least -- fairly well groomed, almost sleek, because of the hair trimming I'd given them in the morning. And we intended, knowing how muddy their paws and legs get going through the ravine, to give them their bath when we returned home.

Jackie knows as soon as he sees me reach into the laundry room cupboard for the towels I use for the puppies that it's bathtime, and when I begin running their bath in the spare bathroom his excitement knows no bounds. Despite which, when I eventually lower him into the warm water he just stands there. Button loved the water and used to paw it, play with it, luxuriate in it. Jackie just stands in it as I lave and soap him up.

When it comes Jillie's turn she knows she cannot evade what she dreads, and she too stands there, but from time to time she attempts to make her way out of the bathtub. While she's in it, having by then been dried off as much as possible, he's in a tizzy of jealousy that she's getting bathed as his is over, and he makes every effort to join her in the tub, managing to balance himself on its lip preparatory to leaping in, and is constrained only at the last minute.

But the vehemence of his proprietary views of our close attention comes to its apex when Jillie is being dried off, stood on the vanity, and being towelled. Jackie keeps yipping and leaping toward her. If he can manage to get one of her ears into his mouth by the tip of its long hairs, he intends to pull her off the vanity, so that too has to see intervention.

What a pair. Never a dull moment.