I've been 'dogged' all day. Jackie and Jillie following my every footstep. Wondering why we weren't going out for a lively jaunt through the forest trails today. Even though every time they're invited to go outdoors to the backyard they shrink back in horror at the very thought of 'voluntarily' rushing out into the rain. But they do respond to orders; not Jackie, he willingly dashes out the door and down to the backyard from the deck. It's Jillie who prefers to remain dry under the deck canopy and who grudgingly obeys when I tell her that isn't an option.

Once they came back indoors and each has a good towel rubdown (that, they enjoy, especially rubbing around their little faces and ears) they want to play. With me. So I oblige. Except that, although they're really good at playing together and rough-housing all over the place, they're stymied when it comes to playing with someone else. They race after me, hop up to capture my hands, my fingers, draw on my clothing, so I stop to play.

 Jackie interprets 'playing' as an opportunity to take my fingers into his mouth and apply gentle pressure. Apart from stroking them and speaking to them, there isn't much 'playing' that occurs between us. Playing with Button, our miniature poodle, really was playing. She responded in kind. Throw the ball and she'd happily race after it and either bring it back, or sit at the top of the stairs and let it bounce back down to me for another throw.

And Riley, our tiny toy poodle knew what playing was all about. I'd feint a manoeuvre and he would pounce. We'd have a game of pull-and-push. Sweep your hand under his legs and he'd dance the Light Fantastic to maintain balance. Jackie and Jillie? Nada. Both Button and Riley loved their toys and especially enjoyed me playing with their toys with them, the squeaky ones in particular.

No chance to get out at all. It was the first time we could recall that Environment Canada gave a 100% forecast for rain. We had a dark morning and rain, rain rain. On into the afternoon and promising to last at least the evening. But the forecast also warned that Friday and Saturday would be rain-filled days. The garden soil is lapping it up. It's creating little ponds here and there. Yesterday, when I began edging the borders I could see bulbs reacting to the change, pushing up little green shoots here and there. Today the edging spaces resemble little rivers.

Last night the smaller of the two raccoons that regularly come around arrived for a prolonged visit, intent on eating as many of the buttered bread squares as he could manage. He managed very well, then turned his attention to the biscuits and peanuts.  Earlier, the rabbit was about on the porch, raiding peanuts and carrots. In a short while, all the snow will be gone, the soil nicely warmed and vegetation will return. They'll be on their own, then.

And we'll finally be able to clean up the accumulated mess of their constant presence. The squirrels will get up to their usual mischief, digging up newly-planted annuals and bulbs, messing up the planting in the garden pots, cheeky little devils. The garden seat on the porch needs a good soapy rub-down to remove the evidence that the porch has been a busy winter feeding station...

When we exited the ravine yesterday Irving checked the group mail box, something he does only a few times weekly. There was his art and antiques magazine for April. And Canada Post had also delivered the anti-COVID masks we had ordered.