It's their usual modus operandi. They get excited and begin picking up their ears, sniffing, coming to an alert pose and we know that somewhere nearby another dog is approaching. We may not see it for awhile yet but Jackie and Jillie know, they are far more attuned, their hearing, olfactory sense and sight superior to ours by far. It's where canines shine and humans decline.

We were almost in completion of yesterday's ravine hike on a relatively mild -4C day which still required that they wear boots since the freshly fallen snow was loose and their tender little paws would pick it all up and freeze their feet rendering them incapable of trotting the forest trails. And that's when they became aware of the approach of another dog.

When that happens their excitement cannot be assuaged, they leap forward, both as one, to speedily close the gap in the trail between themselves and whoever is oncoming. Soon we saw their goal in the distance but couldn't yet make out who it might be, if we could recognize the shape and size of a familiar dog. There was a mild ice fog in the atmosphere so at a distance objects appeared slightly opaque.

By that time they had reached a position closer to the object of their curiosity, and that dog was ramping up its speed to meet them, so as soon as the other dog began closing the gap between them Jackie and Jillie turned tail to run back toward us. It's an old and familiar example of their excited 'aggression' being instantly damped the moment another dog makes an effort to challenge them.

It was, in fact, Amadeus, the 125-lb Saint Bernard whom we had come across just a few days earlier and at the very same place on the forest trail, as it happened. Amadeus is really laid back, he wouldn't threaten a fly, and had no intention of actually 'challenging' our two, he was merely reciprocating as they well knew. They were soon briefly milling about together, an unlikely trio.

We'd come across another pair of acquaintances just a short while earlier with their three dogs leading the way, one of which, a formerly aggressive littermate of their original two had been neglected by its former human, so they had adopted him and socialized him with a great deal of patience, and now he stood before us, waiting and wanting to be acknowledged, petted and spoken to. Actually, it's those sharp noses; he could readily detect there was a bag of treats in one of my pockets.

Dogs adore winter, all the more so when the forest floor is deeply blanketed in snow. They dip their muzzles into the snow and screw their heads about as though in an ecstasy of appreciation at its icy freshness, they leap with huge enthusiasm through piles of accumulated snow, they forge their way along newly-dusted trails with curiosity about what lies ahead, and go off-trail at random to inspect anything they see or smell requiring their immediate attention, melding themselves completely with the landscape.