We live in a large house for two people and two little dogs. There's always so much to do. The day just seems to fold into itself, and before we know it, morning has become afternoon and suddenly evening arrives, to our great surprise. Jackie and Jille fill in their time in various ways, among them a lot of snoozing.

Their periods of frenetic action occur now and again throughout the day, however. Sometimes when they're outside they suddenly turn into two little berserkers zipping about the backyard, around the garden sheds after one another, under the deck, over to the back gate, through the still-empty garden beds. And then they come to sudden attention and begin barking. Oh yes, there's a little red squirrel on the fence. The backyard is out-of-bounds to all but they.

They know in actual fact, differently. Through the close attention they give to scents all over the backyard, their little noses busily sniffing up information on who has been by, when, and for what purpose. Completely unauthorized of course, since they would never permit unlawful entry by others to what is obviously their precinct, and theirs alone.

When we return from our forays into the ravine, after an hour-and-a-half of meandering along the trails and they've had their boots removed, to be washed for the next day's adventure in plodding through mud fields, and their collars and their halters taken off them, excitement creeps up and assaults them sending them once again romping about the house, upstairs and down after each other. This time when they come to a sudden halt, it's because I'm in the kitchen looking to prepare dinner and they know there's a snack in the offing.

It's when they get their first salad of the day comprised of chopped cauliflower, bell pepper and grape tomatoes. They're greedy little pigs, sticking their snouts into the interior of their bowls before I've even had the chance to place them on the floor. Jillie finishes before Jackie and waits politely for him to move off because he always leaves a little bit of something-or-other over, and Jillie is addicted to gobbling up those somethings.

After breakfast Irving invariably pops downstairs to his workshop if he's currently working on a project, while I do whatever needs to be done upstairs, downstairs and all around the house. The bathrooms get a deep-clean on Wednesday. And since I've got quite a bit of cupboards to clean out in my spring cleaning ritual, a few of those got done too, before we finally set off to visit the ravine this afternoon on a sublimely sunny, warm day.

We're seeing more children now in the ravine. Boys bicycling singly and in groups. And pairs and groups of children down by the creek doing whatever it is that children love to do around water. Getting wet and muddy has never bothered children. Older girls walking in pairs with their companion dogs. Older girls yet, fixated on their cellphones, seeing nothing but their screens.

Jackie and Jillie have been behaving in an exemplary manner, so unlike themselves, and we're enormously pleased with them. And we have more confidence in them now that we've finally taken them off leash again, giving them more freedom of movement and ourselves more relaxation with free hands. Perhaps whoever put up the signs warning of the presence of coyotes, can now feel comfortable enough to take them down since none have been sighted for months.