Among all the dogs that we meet when out on our daily forays along the forest trails in the ravine Jackie and Jillie have been happy to make friends with many. And among that many there are those they seem to view with particular favour. For some reason -- just as with us humans -- there are some among various breeds they prefer to give wide berth to, and others in whose company they feel secure and comfortable.

It had occurred to us lately that we hadn't seen Nova around lately. Months have gone by. He's the now-year-and-a-half white German Shepherd that was adopted after the loss of a female counterpart, Lily whom he quite resembles but is now considerably larger than. And it was Lily whom our two were so fond of, always glad to meet and 'discuss' doggy matters with. She was immensely tolerant of their rude, puppy manners.

Now, it is the reverse, Nova presented with puppy manners that Jackie and Jillie felt were somewhat alarming, all the more so given his size advantage over them. Age has mellowed his rambunctiousness somewhat, but he still displays some of the characteristics we usually associate with puppyhood that we find so irresistible as humans and which mature dogs seem to shrink from when they're confronted with the presence of assuming puppies.

No one has asked the dogs that revel in the snow-packed forest what they think about the gradually diminishing snowpack. They wouldn't have noticed it yet, other than that the quality of the snow has changed. The constant freeze-and-thaw has loosened bits of bark from tree trunks, and the constant winds have blasted detritus off the forest canopy.

It may not have been long since the last snowfall, not even a week, but the winter-long coating of fluffed-up white snow that has represented the woodland decor has changed and there's no going back now. What we see when we amble through the forest trails is a forest floor whose previously white mantle has turned quite messy, littered with all manner of woody stuff and organic objects that are quite simply unmentionable.

Dogs no longer have an appetite to 'eat' the fresh snow, since there's no longer any; what had been 'fresh' has now melted under the increasing warmth of a springtime sun, and what is left are those things hitherto hidden between layers of snow constantly refreshed over the winter snowstorm period. Yes, dogs are vitally interested in all those bits and pieces, blobs and plops and wander hither and yon to ensure they aren't missing anything of great importance to them.

When, eventually, the snow does melt and we begin to see the earthen floor beneath, the dogs' memories will click in and all will be taken for granted until the transition is complete and they adjust to their new landscape. It will be similar for us as we groan about the muddy clay forest floor inundated with snowmelt, until it finally dries and all returns to normal for a spring season.