Each day since our return from our week in the White Mountain National Forest of New Hampshire emphasizes how fortunate we were in the weather we encountered there. Actually, weather patterns seem to be fairly consistently similar between that part of New England and the Ottawa Valley. Since it's mountainous there it tends to be somewhat cooler than other parts of the state, roughly approximating what we experience here, and the same occurs with the amount of precipitation
received, in particular snow.

Now back at home, the further along we're nudged into November, normal temperatures and atmospheric conditions are prevailing. Perhaps somewhat over-reaching normal in the amount of rain that's been drenching our area, causing floods in some places. There've been several days lately when, due to the sheer rain volume and continuity, we've been unable to get out to the ravine for our usual walks.

And when we do, it's to see that the wind and rain has made short shrift of our ongoing enjoyment of the deciduous trees hanging on to their colourful foliage, most of which leaf mass has descended to the forest floor, leaving its wonderful colour palette still to be enjoyed but not too long before it turns to monotones of grey.

Yesterday afternoon, out in the ravine, dodging puddles, we heard a consistent, sharp whistle. Eventually we came across someone we call between ourselves The Olde Philosopher. This is a genial man who cannot seem to understand that his opinions aren't necessarily shared by everyone; he has an irritating habit of contesting just about anything that comes out of the mouth of someone he has a conversation with. He also overrides whatever anyone else attempts to say. Given his way, a conversation turns into a soliloquy as he waxes on about his opinions on just about anything. We have learned over the years to give wide berth to  conversations with him, other than the exchange of pleasantries.

Yesterday, however, he was in some distress. Charlie, his large, sloppy, affectionate dog, was missing. He hadn't had contact with her for the last twenty minutes. Granted, the forest in the ravine is a familiar place, but it is extensive, crossing over several major thoroughfares. Charlie has gone AWOL on a few other occasions, showing up eventually. But it's upsetting when you don't have any idea where your companion might be, when she has wandered off for a purpose known only to herself and might be in danger. The very thought of a dependent animal being in a situation that might threaten her safety, even the thought of losing her permanently would upset anyone.

It's why, for fear of just such an occasion, we will keep Jackie and Jillie on leash when we're somewhere unfamiliar, with them. In the ravine we try to keep them at all times in sight, though it becomes difficult in some places where the trail is narrow and winding. We make it plain to them that we want to see them; if we can't, we call for their return and reinforce it with treats, if appropriate.

We're fairly certain that Charlie will be reunited with The Olde Philosopher. It's happened before that she's absented herself for a period of time, causing anxiety for her welfare. But we've also come across lost dogs before over the years and it's clear they suffer anxiety of separation as well. Most dogs wear identification on their collars making it routine to notify those responsible for their security. But it's not a happy occasion for anyone when that separation occurs.