While Irving vacuums the house, when we're both busy doing the Monday house-cleaning, Jackie and Jillie are disconsolate, unable to find comfort for themselves. During the time that the upstairs is being vacuumed they settle down miserably in the family room but their favourite perches just don't seem to give them the assurance they usually do. When the vacuuming is moved downstairs they try finding comfort upstairs in our bedroom, Jackie leaping up to squash the pillows at the head of the bed, always seeking out the high ground, while Jillie splays out at the foot of the bed. 

Finally, when we've finished and the last floor has been washed and I haul myself upstairs to change from my work clothes, the two imps go berserk. Leaping around me happily -- are they happy for me that the drudgery of cleaning is done for another week? Before I've finished Irving has completed the vacuuming and he sits with them on the sofa, while I complete my portion of the clean-up. As long as he's with them they're happy and comfortable.

But the moment they see me carrying the pail of soapy water out of the kitchen (where they've been excluded, the doors closed) they abandon him and race after me. Upstairs in the bathroom, I replace the little rugs on the now-dry floor. I've done the same in the laundry room, the powder room, the foyer. Those little rugs become casualties as Jackie and Jillie race like the wind after one another, coasting on the rugs sending them flying over the floor in disarray. Something else for me to clean up afterward.

They're beside themselves with excitement: what's next! Why, preparations for our ravine hike, that's what! The sky's former blue with wispy white clouds has become aggressive with dishrag grey clouds and in the distance, huge billowing charcoal grey clouds; does that look in the distance like a curtain of rain falling out of those threatening clouds? Could be.

We wrap rainjackets around our waists on this hot day before setting off, tucking little ones for the puppies in our pockets. At first there's no breeze, the air still and heavy with moisture, the sun beaming through a light cloud cover, darker clouds approaching. There is relief from the heat once we're in the forest. And while Jackie and Jillie plunge into the ravine before we do, they're barking furiously. There's a group of young teens with bicycles parked beside the bridge on the right and a lot of shouting back and forth between the young people.

We take the trail to the left and ford the bridge on the left; all is quiet, signs of dogs having spurted up another hill we begin to ascend are there, with big wet splotches leading from the creek up the hilly trail. We rise to the main trail on the spine of the ravine and meet up with a woman and her two dogs, retriever mixes happy for a little distraction gained in the company of our two. Cookies are dispensed all around. Along comes another regular hiker with her two dogs and a brief brouhaha ensues; it seems as though there are dogs everywhere because of the constant movement.

Finally, approaching the last bridge on today's tour, we can see in the distance as we descend another hill the bright yellow spread of the black-eyed Susans ahead on the opposite bank of the creek. They're magnificent in their radiance under the sun's influence but too distant for my camera to capture the brilliance of their presence. In short order we approach the last bridge and there about six or seven boys are milling about, their bicycles left in the tall grasses, the boys excitedly discussing something between themselves.

We discover what the excitement is about when we cross the bridge and encounter two other boys sullenly departing the bridge, shouting something out to their waiting companions. And there, at the end of the bridge are  two of our neighbours, one of them picking up small bright-coloured balls. The boys have been shooting pellet guns, the plastic bits littering the bridge, the forest floor. Our neighbours had been lecturing the boys on the harm the plastic bits do to the wildlife. Their faces just closed up in disinterested defiance at the lecture as though to say they have to listen to their parents criticizing them all the time; they don't have to stand and take it from complete strangers.