We had decided that after taking Jackie and Jillie out for a ravine walk on a sunny morning/afternoon we would drive downtown to Byward Market for a little shopping expedition. That is to say we would all drive down but my husband would exit the vehicle to visit a few key shops for his updated art magazines and choices at the cheese shop. And then drive a little further to the Rideau Bakery for some truly good rye bread and onion buns. And I would remain behind with Jackie and Jillie. Our usual modus operandi when we agree to take them with us.

It's much more intelligent to leave them at home together where they can be comfortable and sleep off the vigours and rigours of a strenuous run in the ravine. But they sense when we're about to leave them at home, long before we actually put on our boots and our coats. and they behave anxiously, knowing they're not slated to accompany us. This time, they were so stressed about it we decided we'd take them with us. Not a particularly wise decision. They don't travel well in the winter months.

Worse, once we were all installed in the truck, where they're more comfortable seated beside us in the re-arrangement my husband thought up to accommodate them, making a seating 'bridge' between the two bucket seats where they could cuddle, the truck wouldn't start. So we ended up taking the car, not an automatic like the truck and where they are seated in the back and which doesn't drive as smoothly as the truck.

During our ravine walk, a lengthy one to take advantage of a milder temperature than we've been accustomed to these winter days, though the wind does its best to dissipate the moderation of 2C, the sun was full out, brightening the landscape wonderfully. Then there was a surprisingly swift transition of an absolutely clear sky to one that was fast accumulating a dense cloud cover, so by the time we exited the forest the sun had gone completely and the day turned dark.

Strangely enough, though we were out on the forest trails for an extended period of time, we came across no one else. We were earlier than usual, just after noon when we set out, so that was a little surprising. In any event, Jackie and Jillie had a good run-about. Despite the mild temperature we had put their rubber boots on because yesterday, equally mild and sunny, when we exited the ravine and walked with them down the street they began lifting their paws and we understood that their tiny feet had picked up road salt put down over the ice and snow to create a less slippery surface, that has the effect of making snow feel excruciatingly icy on dogs' feet.

The solution to that is to carry them from the ravine entrance to our house, just a two-minute walk or so down the street. Certainly they have their feet washed when we return home, but to avoid such discomfort for them it's best to use the rubber boots to shield them from salt-caused pain, because pain it is. We were also aware that while we were in the ravine Jillie had on several occasions more than sniffed offal left behind by other dogs passing through. It's a problem, one we find almost impossible to solve since chastening them does no good; they find it irresistible. That she did this led us to expect she would feel ill later on in the day.

By the time we set off for our Byward Market assignation, the sky was occluded completely, not a bit of blue, much less chance of a glimpse of sun poking through. But the drive as always along the Eastern Parkway following the Ottawa River is restful and boasts little traffic,and the views of the river, frozen over and entirely snow-blanketed are always interesting.

The last time we were at the market, not all that long ago, was a much colder day, windier and overcast and there were few pedestrians; this time a different story altogether prevailed. People are sick of being cloistered within throughout these long winter months, anxious to finally get out and yesterday seemed, it appears, as good a day as any to do just that. So an amazing number of people thronged about the Byward Market, visiting their favourite haunts and there were even a few stalls up selling maple syrup from last year and hand-made objects from near and far.

I read the newspapers while my husband did his shopping and Jackie and Jillie snoozed comfortably behind me. On our return trip home first Jackie threw up, and then Jillie, so the car interior wasn't exactly fragrant. As soon as we turned onto our street the poor little mites perked up visibly, excited and happy to be back home.

Once home, Jillie repeatedly cleansed her stomach, to put it mildly, of the irresistible bits of poop she had ingested, once asking to go outside, the other times content to spew all she had eaten that day, upstairs on the floor in our bedroom. She was not a well little dog.

By evening things had resolved themselves. She was ready to cuddle on the loveseat between us as we watched an excellent film, "Frantz", set in immediately post-war World War One, transitioning from resentful peacetime Germany to France, where the loss of the younger generation sent to battle created a screenplay that was absorbing and well-portrayed.