From inside the house Jackie and Jillie can detect the near presence of other animals on the outside of the house. Growls and warning barks. And a rush over to the front door to peer out in all directions as they certify their suspicions. Someone walking by on the street accompanied by a dog. Squirrels or birds on the porch no longer qualify for these alarms. They've long been accustomed to their presence. Even the skunk and raccoons on the porch at night ignore them and get on with their feeding. 

Rabbits, however, are much more likely to scatter. This afternoon after the umpteenth time I went out to the backyard with them, I instantly regretted not having my camera along. While Jackie and Jillie scrambled wildly down the deck stairs, across the back walkway and behind the sheds to scare up whoever/whatever it was they were convinced would be hiding out there, I looked directly in front of me at the back fence and there, stock still, was a rabbit.

Their pandemonium caused the rabbit to go into camouflage mode. His coat has already turned a lighter colour for the season ahead and he melded well into the unraked leaves and other detritus left in the garden. It's a reflexive mechanism for survival for small vulnerable creatures like a rabbit if it senses near danger to hope to be overlooked if he stands absolutely still, makes no movement. But he can move like lightning should danger approach.

I called Jackie and Jillie back into the house, went looking for my camera and took it back outside with me. Mr. Rabbit still in position, quietly assessing the situation. Danger had passed as soon as our two little dogs were out of the picture, but the rabbit remained motionless, posing for me very considerately. He's been around quite awhile. We've seen him and his predecessors in the garden for years, usually bare glimpses. And on the porch at night, nibbling at peanuts, looking very serene but watchful. I left a carrot behind and went back indoors.

We dithered about in the house until finally deciding it was getting late. Irving had hauled those two 50-lb. bags of shelled peanuts down to the basement where he places them in old copper-lined wooden tea chests we acquired in Japan; one bag to each chest. They're quite the burden to grapple with, ungainly, wobbly, slippery. He had taken them off the truck and into the laundry room last night because of impending overnight frost. Then he went out to run a few errands and that done, went down to his workshop to repair the handle that fell off the screen of the sliding doors to the deck. And then he concentrated on his stained glass.

By the time we decided it was past time for a ravine walk, it was late afternoon. I had been busy deep-cleaning the kitchen, laundering linen, preparing a soup for dinner and bread to go with it. Another cold day of 4C, though light wind. Light sprinkles of rain began falling as we walked our way up the street and into the ravine. And dusk too was beginning to fall, and we knew it wouldn't be long before the forest was dark.

The tree canopy may be hugely reduced in the forest but we barely were moistened by the light rain as we meandered along the trails. Because it was already dusk we decided that it would be sensible to keep Jackie and Jillie on leash. One of our community neighbours living on a street about four over from ours whose house backs directly onto the ravine, told us they heard the coyotes yipping and howling in full throttle last night. But on earlier occasions others of our friends told us they had seen coyotes out in broad daylight.

It makes the walk awkward, to leash them since the puppies are constrained, certainly not as free to pursue their whims to wander here and there as they're accustomed to, and often the leashes get entangled, but peace of mind and safety is the goal and the price to be paid worth it. There's the reverse of the backyard-rabbit scenario....

By the time we completed our circuit, the forest interior was quite dark. But we weren't the only hikers going through the forest trails, with and without companion dogs. The trails were in pretty soggy shape given all the rain we've had this past week. The heavily overcast skies ensured that the light rain continued and the dark of early evening accelerated. When we reached street level and exited the forest we did so to considerably more light out on the street. And the pavement on the street was well moistened from the rain falling more conspicuously about us, unsheltered by trees, as we reached our driveway and released the puppies from their leashes.