Jillie was perfectly fine when we brought her home yesterday from the groomer's. The episode which the vet and the spa groomers reported to us of her having been alarmed and frightened certainly made no impact on her appetite. She was ravenous as usual, turning her usual twirls of delighted impatience when her dinner was being prepared; even more so with the salad to follow.

This morning as we were having breakfast, there was a telephone call from the spa, one of the groomers calling to ask how Jillie was. Our report in response, needless to say, was a reassuring one to them. Before we'd left yesterday with our beautifully groomed and pampered little pups, all of the girls came out to the front to speak with us. Their manager wanted to reassure us so it was quite touching to see their concern.

We've always been fond of all of them, lovely young women, competent, friendly and so obviously attached to each of the creatures that come so briefly into their care. Later, Irving and I talked it over. Jillie tends on occasion to be a stubborn little cuss. If she doesn't want to move, she just won't. Irving thinks she had experienced a little epiphany; she was somewhere she would rather not be for reasons of her own, and wasn't going to take it.

That doesn't wash with me, since she's never before indicated in any way being uncomfortable in the care of these professional and proficient young women to account for the behaviour that they recounted to us. So it's my considered opinion that something had gone awry to either frighten or briefly pain her, likely a combination of both; an accident of some kind in other words. Which doesn't diminish my trust in the people we had chosen to look after our pups in this way. It was, when all is said and done, just one of those things to be filed away.

Our neighbour Dan also dropped by with a gift for Jackie and Jillie. No special occasion, really. He and his wife Lynn never did bring another dog home to live with them after they lost Cannelle, a Golden, to old age. She was such a familiar sight to us for so long, coming over to be spoken to, petted. She was another stubborn personality and a loving one. Lynn had baked doggie biscuits as a gift to some of her extended family that have dogs, and wanted us to have some, too. I had on occasion done the same thing myself.

This morning's -17C temperature steadily rose throughout the day to finally hit a  high of -4C in the mid-afternoon and that's when we chose to venture out to the ravine. Actually, Jackie and Jillie informed us it was high time we left the house for our daily ravine foray. They come to fetch us with a clear message: let's go!

And so we did. They wore their new booties. We had ambled over to the boutique co-located to the veterinarian hospital and spa. They now operate strictly at a distance. We accessed the pick-up window and took possession of two packages of extra-small rubber booties, 12 in a package. Their old boots have seen better days; they've slowly been eliminated. They resemble tiny balloons to be pulled over tiny feet to protect from ice and icy temperatures and they do the trick.

It was much easier going through the snow-packed trails today than the previous two days. The third day following Monday night's snowstorm made all the difference in tractionability. The thick mounds of snow have been well flattened; enough people have been through at this juncture and the trails are readily navigable. Ascents are another story altogether; if you build up enough momentum and keep going, it works fairly well. Pausing briefly before reaching the top of a hill spells backsliding and a considerable effort to regain traction.

There were more people out today, more dogs and more need to feint and swerve and duck to avoid close physical contact while still practising the courtesy of social greeting. And although it had been mostly overcast for the time we were out on the trails, just before we prepared to complete our circuit the sun peeked out briefly behind the screen of the trees to wave a cheery Hi There!