The voice at the other end was that of one of the veterinarians where we take Jackie and Jillie for their physicals and vaccinations. I just knew when the telephone rang shortly after we returned home what to expect; some inner voice 'told me' that call would be a disturbing one. But the reason we decided to use the spa next to and part of the animal  hospital we've used for decades was their proximity. One of the groomers had bathed Jillie and was blowdrying her hair preparatory to cutting it, when suddenly as we were told, Jillie became frantically upset, crying and acting out. Frightening the young women enough that they took Jillie next door so a vet could check her out.

They had no idea why she was hysterical, crying and yelping. According to the vet she seemed fine physically and he was able to calm her. She was taken back to the spa and they would let her rest then try to groom her, and if she resisted, they'd leave it for another appointment. Meanwhile, Jackie was being attended to. Jillie is not high-strung, Jackie is. They've been to this spa, handled by the groomers often enough. She knows them, they know her, so this behaviour was wildly uncharacteristic. She let loose her bowels and she peed. That too is unlike her.

We think that what happened is that whoever was drying her hair may have had the dryer on too hot a cycle and Jillie had been burned, though there was nothing visible to support that theory. When we picked them up there was no sign of any ordeal. They were just both of them beside themselves with joy to see us; Jillie was spinning excited circles, eager to be taken home. For a treat once home I cubed up a nectarine and part of a bell pepper between them. And as soon as we got home Irving took the bright little ribbons out of Jillie's hair. I can't persuade him not to.

This was a busy day. We had decided not to do the grocery shopping as usual on Tuesday because Monday was a holiday and Tuesday was the first day of the lockdown being relaxed with stores permitted to reopen. We woke earlier than usual this morning and left our two puppies crying, wailing and whining and howling as though they were being tortured, left alone, bereft of our presence.

We arrived just as the store opened and found the shelves good and full of fresh produce despite our concerns they wouldn't be. Re-stocking shelves has become paramount, after some experiences we've had where shelves had been cleared out the days previously and not properly re-stocked for early morning shoppers. We're seeing more people going along to do their shopping earlier in the day like us of late.

Soon after breakfast and the following clean-up we decided we'd take an earlier than usual ravine hike, despite the -11C temperature and windy conditions. The sun was illuminating the house interior with its super-wattage and we thought that by late morning hiking conditions through the snow of the storm of the day before in the ravine would have improved by people making their way through the trails. We soon discovered otherwise. 

The snow is plentiful and high and though it's been somewhat tamped down on the trails, it remains untrodden completely; the result being an excess remaining of soft snow interspersed with bootprints, an uneven surface with slippery conditions throughout. As exhausting as it was yesterday to tramp through the new snow, it was just the same today. Slow slogging, stopping now and again to rest and catch breath briefly, stilling our beating hearts, resting aching leg muscles before carrying on.

 We wanted to give Jackie and Jillie a chance to have their usual daily ramble through the woods because we knew we wouldn't want to take them out after their haircoat had been cut today, even with double jackets for warmth. Chances are it will be slightly more moderate temperature-wise tomorrow and we won't be so concerned. We happened to cross paths with a young woman we've known for decades, pulling herself uphill, her malemute preceding her. She's a lot younger than we are and she was clearly having difficulty attaining the crest of the hill.

The wind was busy whipping snow off branches in long shimmering veils lofted through the air to finally settle on the snowed-in ground. Despite the cold temperature and the wind, we were exerting so much energy in locomotion against the snow along with the effort of maintaining balance that we began to actually feel too warm.

When we completed our circuit with just a few minutes left before we'd have to leave to deliver the puppies to the spa, we came to a growing obstacle attaining the street exiting the ravine, where mounds of snow have been piled high by the municipal plow when it clears the street after a snowfall. In clambering over the mound I slipped, unable to catch my balance and did a complete swan dive. On my back, as it happened, falling ingloriously into the still-soft snowpack and sustaining no injuries much less an ache. I did emerge from the incident resembling a snowman, however.