Last year while trekking through the forest trails we had come across on several occasions a small group of two men and a woman we thought to be in their early- to mid-20s walking three very large dogs that looked as unfriendly as the young people were. We have a tendency to greet anyone we come across, and though they reciprocated the greeting it was clear they had no interest in having anything to do with other people, and that was fine with us.

The behaviour of the dogs, however, was a little troubling. They weren't overtly aggressive but it was something about the way some very large dogs that haven't been socialized behave that catches your attention. We were concerned about our two little dogs in their presence and tried to control the situation by calling Jackie and Jillie to us. In the presence of those dogs they were pleased to accommodate us.

Soon afterward on one of those occasions we came across a clearly upset man in his 60s walking a very small black Labrador, who told us he had been sitting on one of the crude benches along a trail, his dog quietly beside him when seemingly out of nowhere three large dogs had surrounded his dog and one attacked it. He called out in alarm and immediately separated his dog from the other, potentially risking harm to himself, when he noticed the three young people hoving into view to take in the situation. None of them responded to the situation, however. No one of them called off the clearly aggressive dogs.

Then they walked off nonchalantly with their dogs, the older man's voice trailing after them as he recommended placing them on leash for the safety of others. His little dog had been shocked but not harmed to the point where its skin was broken, and they were both for obvious reasons, upset. We commiserated and took greater pains the next time we were briefly exposed to the group. And then never saw them again.

Early yesterday morning when we were out in the ravine, about halfway through our usual circuit, we came across that man again whom we'd seen very infrequently and not yet this summer, so we walked together for awhile, his little black Lab ambling about with Jackie and Jillie. Allie, his dog, he said, was called a Coconut Lab, when I remarked on her size. A rescue, he had picked her up several years ago from the Gatineau SPCA across the border in Quebec which had a few weeks ago suffered a catastrophic fire in which quite a few of the rescues had died.

Allie had been brought in to Canada on a kind of rescue mission to place a few of this breed, from St. Martin in the French West Indies where a rescue group takes in abandoned companion animals, cares for them, and prepares them for adoption. Who has ever heard of a coconut Lab? Well, now we have. I mentioned to the fellow that obviously Allie had 'lucked in', now living with someone who cared about her welfare and valued her presence. He smiled and responded that on the contrary, he was the one who had lucked in.