Jackie had rice and chicken for breakfast this morning. To cope with diarrhea. Up twice during the night to take him out to the backyard. Thank heavens he accepted the rice. He isn't absent an appetite.
Caught him eating garbage yesterday afternoon in the ravine, and remonstrated with him, but it doesn't help. Whenever we stop briefly to acknowledge the presence of a friend and briefly hold a conversation, he uses the opportunity to sniff around for ... garbage. Jillie does as well, we've got to keep a sharp eye out for both of them, but her stomach never acts up the way his does.

My husband picked up a box of Fortiflora at the veterinarian 'boutique' after breakfast, and the probiotic will be sprinkled on his dinner tonight; more rice, more chicken. He's in a rollicking good mood, though, and we appreciate that. Off playing rambunctiously with his sister. Enjoying himself looking out the front door and giving right royal hell to the squirrels enjoying their treats, and ignoring two little black dogs' barks.

I've been busy doing some spring cleaning. Cleared out some of the shelving in the laundry room. And downstairs washed the tile floors, so that everything there is nice and sparkling to welcome warmer weather and a new outlook on life, however impeded by the coronavirus concerns. My husband always protests that I should use a long-handled wet mop but I prefer to get down on my hands and feet to wash floors. I find it faster and more efficient.

It was a very cold morning once again, though the wind had abated. We'd touched freezing last night but by mid-morning the atmosphere had warmed up nicely, thanks to the presence of the sun and the absence of wind. But knowing how much cooler it tends to be in the ravine, we took precautions that none of us would regret not being adequately dressed there, despite the temperature having risen to 10C.

In recognition of such a glorious day we shared the forest trails once again with quite a number of people, many finding the trail system confusing. My husband can always be relied upon to render directions linking to various streets in the community. The bicyclists rarely ask for directions. They're becoming ever more numerous, zipping about the trails, sometimes easy to accommodate and distance adequately, and sometimes not.

The thing about being on a bicycle on forest trails to me, is that what can you appreciate about your surroundings? No opportunity exists to look at emerging wildflowers, to watch the wildlife, to appreciate the various landscapes that reveal themselves, when you're negotiating trails that are heavily inclined and compromised by root systems, rocks and ditches.

We've become attuned to the necessity of waiting, pulling ourselves aside, if at all possible, to create distance on the pathways to allow people to pass us without compromising proximity occurring. On occasion we're the ones who wait, and on other occasions, others set themselves aside to await our passage.

We saw the first of the false Solomon's Seals emerging beside the trunk of a large old tree. Soon they'll be everywhere.The trilliums are beginning to put out their flower buds, but none have yet shown any inclination to bloom, and nor are there any signs of the yellow flowers on the myriads of trout lily drifts on the forest floor. All in good time, we know, but we also tend to be impatient to see their appearance.

Just as we began to ascend the last long hill to reach street level and emerge from the ravine and forest, a tandem bicycle suddenly appeared and passed us. Sometimes there is warning that bicyclists are about to pass, but more often there is none, and suddenly someone on a bicycle appears behind  no bell, no warning rings out, and they pass by a hairsbreadth distance.

I have no idea whether this was a custom-made tandem bicycle, or that such contraptions are now commercially available at bike shops, but it consisted of two parts fused together; the front an adult bike, the back a much, much smaller children's bicycle.

And as it happened, the adult, presumably the father of the little girl behind him was pumping furiously to get them up the hill, while the little girl certainly wasn't straining herself, occasionally pumping her little legs, then hanging loose again, their ascent becoming so bogged down they eventually had to stop and walk the bicycle the remainder of the way to the top of the hill.