I thought it so quaint, and just loved hearing those five o'clock chimes that wafted softly through every Tokyo neighbourhood as though to remind people that the day was winding down, best get home from work, enjoy a good meal, relax with family, make the most of the evening hours to entertain yourselves.

Being reminded what time it is and what that time signifies is something we've grown accustomed to in our little family when our little dogs become restless and deliver their instructions analogous to the time. Both Jackie and Jillie will crowd me anxiously, nuzzling me to get up if I'm sitting reading the paper in the early evening, punctually at six o'clock. Of course, they want to be fed. I've been tardy.

Later on in the evening when eleven o'clock rolls around Jackie will go to the door and bark imperiously. Time for their last hoorah outdoors because it is an undeniable fact that it is bedtime. And at bedtime, even if they have both been soundly napping while we've been busy with our own pleasant evening distractions, they want to be upstairs in their bed, and they want us to be up there in bed as well, when the day is done.

Similarly, they tend to read the signs they find from us that it's time to go out for a ramble in the woods, urging us to proceed and prepare everything for that daily venture. Sometimes we go earlier, sometimes later; usually in the early to mid-afternoon, but occasionally later and on occasion in late morning. Yesterday the weather necessitated that Jackie and Jillie be garbed against cold to the point where Muttluks joined their winter jackets.

It is my husband, not I, who patiently places each boot firmly on each little paw, drawing the tops of the boots midway up their legs, as protection against the elements. Unlike large dogs, small dogs can take only so much cold before extremes penetrate becoming painful. We were on the cusp of what they can tolerate, at minus-6 Celsius yesterday (it's much colder and windier today) when they can get by without boots, but because it was snowing and had been throughout the night and would continue all day, the cold plus the immersion of their tiny feet in fresh snow is more than they can tolerate.

Wearing the boots seems to inexplicably excite and incite them to greater leaps and bounds on the forest trails. We love watching them in their exuberant joy at being out in the woods, at their freedom to romp and to play and to challenge one another to speedier and more acrobatic excesses. Yesterday, all of Jillie's boots stayed on. On the other hand, one of Jackie's boots continually seemed to come loose and when that happened, he suddenly decelerated, stood still and lifted the offending boot still on his leg. It hadn't whipped off as Jillie's tend to do even though he is infinitely more given to wild leaping contortions than she is. But because the boot had slipped its moorings it was no longer comfortable, so he stood there, boot raised, awaiting our attention.

Which means I pick him up and my husband works with the boot on his foot until it's back in place. Then Jackie sets off once again until it happens again. And it happened three times yesterday, after which the boot finally stayed in place nice and firmly. If one of them happens to pick up something uncomfortable in one of their paws or on their legs and they're unable to dislodge whatever it is they will similarly signal to us they need help.

That two-way communication is amazing and fascinating to contemplate between humans and others of the animal kingdom.