Today turned out to be one of those days when it looked as though we wouldn't have the opportunity to get out with Jackie and Jillie for a traipse through forest trails. Everything was dripping, heavy rain from morning to afternoon. The garden is completely sodden, vegetation looks fairly dejected, averse to being drowned. There was one little Morning Glory defying the rain and fully open despite the lack of sun and the presence of gushing rain.

Jackie and Jillie weren't anywhere near thrilled about having to exit the house to pee. The alternative is forbidden so they were faced with a real dilemma. When they went up to bed last night they were slightly damp yet again after being unmercifully forced to relieve themselves in the rain before bedtime. People can be so unreasonable, we heard Jackie hiss to Jillie. She was in complete agreement. We were in the metaphorical dog house.

Ditto this morning. There are times when Irving must pick Jillie up, heavy little bundle that she is, to deposit her under the deck to do her business, where the rain can't get at her. She fails to appreciate his thoughtfulness and often grudgingly exit into the garden and positions herself in the rain, suffering the rain to beat down on her in the hope that we'll feel remorse over forcing this indignity on her person.

Practical Jackie just gets it over with and whips back upstairs to the deck and into the house to leap onto the Deacon's bench lined with towels, awaiting his towelling-down. Jillie's histrionics are typical of her gender, inborn, not taught. She is not playing a role, but living it.

Finally, though, we did get out. I'd been busy with the laundry, a little bit of ironing, prepared a dough for a focaccia bread to accompany the fish chowder we're having tonight. It's not only rainy, but cool out at 17C. Others may be suffering drought and extreme heat conditions, but we're not among them, so grateful for that. We may grumble and moan, but we're also acutely aware of how fortunate we are.

Our opportunity came when the rain stopped, though from the look of the dark cloud-streaked sky it seemed likely a renewal of the rain was imminent. On with our raincoats, off to the ravine. Stopping as usual to see whether there are any ripe blackberries, raspberries, thimbleberries for easy plucking. There were none; Jackie and Jillie were crushed with disappointment. On one side grow the berries on the other the wildflowers; each a treat to behold.

Looking ahead as the trail winds downhill and into the forest, the interior looks extremely dark. Once you're in it, however, it doesn't seem quite as dark, but welcoming as the forest embraces us. Jackie and Jillie as always run on ahead stopping now and again to read the news of the day left by other dogs as they mark here and there, and they take the time to leave their own messages. Any dogs that come after will know that Jackie and Jillie were there.

 A little like the whole world knows in other ways when Jackie and Jillie 'were there'. We've often been told by people going through the ravine or living close to it that they know when our two little companions are passing through the trails because the turmoil they cause with their barking reveals their presence. They bark excitedly when they see someone they know, they bark authoritatively when someone is ahead they're unfamiliar with, they bark aggressively when they come across other dogs unknown to them, but hesitant about their presence.

We felt fairly fortunate to be able to get out, even though we thought the heavens would open up at any time while we were out. That didn't happen. A light or middling-to-heavy rain could be countenanced since we were all in rain gear, but heavy downpours are another thing altogether. Meanwhile, we enjoyed the overwhelming, gleaming green of the landscape, the cool comfort and the freedom availed us by circumstances to relish a quality of life denied so many.