We've entered a winter cold snap. Windy, with gusting emphasis on minus-17 Celsius mornings, with the temperature not nudging up all that much more throughout the day. Mind, we also have sun, but there's little warmth in a wan winter sun on such cold days, particularly when roaming through a forest of conifers sprinkled with deciduous trees. The forest does, however, offer shelter from the worst of the winds. We can hear it ferociously roaring through the canopy above.

So, it's very cold, and we have to dress accordingly. Not just us, but our little dogs, precisely because they are little dogs. On these days, they need their warm coats and boots to shelter them from the extreme cold, but a sweater under the coat is also a good idea, to cover their bellies. They don't seem to mind, they're glad to be out and exuberant over the snow.

We, on the other hand, tend to plod through the depths of newfallen snow which, depending on its moister content can also cause us to slither and slip ascending and descending hills. They encounter no such problems, equipped with double the number of legs we have.

The trouble with being so bundled up is that we cannot react as quickly. When I have to reach for tissues because my nose needs wiping, I've got to haul off those cumbersome mittens, ditto for the camera and it's quite a nuisance. Similarly, we move less nimbly encumbered as we are with heavy winter boots, and warm leggings and coats that constrain movement. Let alone hoods that interfere with sightlines.

One winter little Riley, though dressed just as Jackie and Jillie are now, scampered ahead of us barking shrilly at a large old Husky we encountered on one of the trails. We couldn't catch up to him because we were going uphill through thick snow. The Husky stopped Riley by scooping him up into its mouth and Riley's threatening barks turned to yips of pure unadulterated fear. When I reached them both at the same time the Husky's owner did, I attempted to pry Riley out of the Husky's mouth and barely managed, Riley whimpering fiercely.

He wasn't harmed; his sweater and coat had shielded him from the Husky's teeth. The man explained to me that the dog was suffering from cancer, and was in any event accustomed to small dogs, he played with his mother's little dog often.

So, we attempt in these walks in the woods at this time of year, to keep our two mischief-makers in close proximity. Like Riley, they have a tendency to bark first whimper later.