Sometimes it seems that just a split second is all it takes to suddenly change your outlook on life. It has been depressing for us to be so anxious about our little Jackie, always so springy and cheerful to suddenly become listless, disinterested and seemingly lost in a desolate state of disequilibrium we knew nothing about the cause and effect. Witnessing his peculiar behaviour so unlike his normal self and his apparent loss of enthusiasm for anything, as he mystified us with actions we'd never before seen in him, much less his reversion to a puppy stage when in training for outdoor evacuation, we were completely baffled.

When the veterinarian checked his vital signs, his physical condition and found nothing amiss we were reassured, but then thrown back into confusion when his strange condition persisted and we didn't know how to react. My impression was that we should interact with him no differently than we always do, and somehow that would alert his consciousness to recall his normal behaviour through routine.

My husband was in favour of babying him, treating him as a very sick little dog. Truth is, my husband has far more patience and optimism than I have ever had. When our children were  young I used to call him 'doktor'. I was beyond impatient at having to take him outside to the back yard beseechingly urging him to 'pee' or 'poo', both of which he seemed determined to withhold. He became a one-pee-a-day puppy, squatting instead of lifting his leg. His stomach was upset and it showed up in wet stools that he would deposit in the most infuriating of places. I ended up washing the coverlet on our bed two consecutive days.

This morning he refused breakfast, and just seemed totally detached from everything. We called the veterinarian clinic and made an early-morning Wednesday appointment, the only opening available, with our vet. And then, suddenly, everything changed. He became alive, alert, mischievous, happy, energetic; in short his old self. Just . like . that! Teasing his sister, inviting her to a run-about. Then both looking expectantly at us as though to ask: 'when's the walk in the ravine today?'

We waited awhile, observing him to make certain that this sudden switch wasn't a brief anomaly, but it wasn't. So we suited everyone up for a lovely, sunny, windless and cool ramble through woodland trails. At first we weren't certain how far we would go, depending, we told one another, on how he reacted. Perfectly normally. Oh well, not quite. In that he seemed reborn. Interested in everything, all the intriguing odours he had missed in the days kept at home, and marking everywhere.

He stood tall, erect and happy to be out, which was exactly how we felt at that point. His tail stood up to attention, his eyes and ears focused on the landscape and everything in between and sprinted back and forth, in effect covering twice the distance that we do. At one point, ourpuppies both excitedly began barking in greeting when abruptly, before we even saw him, Nova spurted out of the forest to greet us. We've known Nova since he was a puppy and he's always ready when our timing coincides and he hears us somewhere in the woods, to come over lickety-split to say hello, in several dashes back and forth, and then he departs to rejoin Rod, whose calls are so distant we cannot even audibly detect them.

So that was a huge relief. To watch as both our puppies cavorted and enjoyed slipping in and off the trail into the woods interior, looking out for squirrels, leaping with joy at the freshness of the day and the purity of the air, the boundless smells and nature's invitation to come along, linger and appreciate.
They did, and we did.