Yesterday was a provincial holiday, a winter break for working people that authorities in Ontario had named 'Family Day'. It's not a federal holiday but all the provinces recognize it naming it what they will. And it makes for a nice three-day week-end for those fortunate enough to be able to take advantage of it, though not all employers in the province do.

We've had a long spate of perfectly clear-sky days of late, not unusual for Ottawa's winters. But along with the clear skies attaches a prolonged period of unusual cold, interspersed with snowy days. The cold temperatures are always exacerbated by gusting winds, sometimes hugely. None of which keeps people entirely without options. Some, not many but some, choose to take a walk in the winter woods.

Which makes the weekends times when we have to be particularly alert about Jackie and Jillie and their breed-propensity to assertive barking when they see anyone they don't know. Of course they also bark at those they know, but the barks take on a different 'how'rya!' quality. On Sunday during our walk through the forest trails we came across two children, one about eight or nine, the other around six, sledding down one of the hilly trails, having a rip-roaring time of it.

We don't often see children unattended by adults. When we were children ourselves, virtual ages ago, it was common, but it no longer is; parents tend to stay close to their children in such surroundings; in any surroundings, actually, outside the home. For one thing there's always the concern over strangers with ill intentions coming across their children. There's always the worry that an ill-behaved dog could attack a child. And then there's the possibility that children will injure themselves sledding. We've seen some of that, over the years.These children were given leeway that most their age don't have.

The smaller one started out by 'hiding' his presence from us behind his saucer-shaped sled. That didn't last beyond our first teasing him that we knew he was there. They were both friendly, happy enough to exchange pleasantries with two perfect strangers. Clearly they haven't been warned into a state of paranoid fear of those unfamiliar to them by protective parents. We had leashed Jackie and Jillie because if the children took to sliding while we were about, both our little dogs would dash after them, barking furiously. Many children take fright at barking dogs, irrespective of the dogs' size.

When we left the children after finally exhausting topics of interest to young children and hearing their excited descriptions of the fun they were enjoying, we did not actually see anyone else out and about. The following day, however, we came across two little groups; one a middle-aged man and woman walking a beagle. Jackie and Jillie had been aware of the distant presence of the beagle and began acting out as usual, running ahead and barking, before we heard the distinctive beagle baying, an amazing sound from such a relatively small animal.

About the time we came abreast of this group, along came a man with another dog, a large and beautifully proportioned Rhodesian Ridgeback. When the beagle came close to the Ridgeback, he leaped on his neck and nuzzled his head close to the other's, in an unmistakable embrace. Seems they knew one another, had come across each other previously, and a love affair had blossomed between them, a sight to melt anyone's heart.