Descending a long hill during our early morning outing through the forest trails today, we saw Rajinder crossing the bridge and climbing the hill toward us. We haven't seen her in the ravine for quite a while. She used to come out regularly for a crisp, no-nonsense turn through the forest trails. She liked the exercise, she found it refreshing, she liked the 'getting-away-from-it-all feeling' it gave her. This was shortly after she had gone into retirement from her supervisory position at a government department. She was accustomed to being busy, and suddenly, on retirement, found herself feeling lost.

She enjoyed her solo outings for months until she had an unpleasant encounter with a dog. She isn't fond of dogs, and fears large dogs. Jackie and Jillie know her as a neighbour they often see and they never bother her, knowing they won't get any pats out of that source. The encounter was unpleasant. The dog leaped at her, and it was a large dog. Likely it was also a young dog, they tend to be pretty expressive and anxious to play with anyone they come across. The owner laughed, rather than calling the dog away from her, after seeing her fright. Clearly a bit of an idiot.

 

After that, she was afraid of returning to the daily habit of zipping through the trails. I'm familiar with dogs, I have a good idea of how to judge them, but that doesn't mean I haven't had my own encounters that haven't been pleasant. I've been knocked down by dogs on occasion, though usually the people with them are apologetic. If a too-enthusiastic dog is left unsupervised it's what can happen. While we were talking together, down the hill came a short-legged British Lab, approaching each of us in turn, wagging its tail and wanting to be noticed. We know the dog, it's friendly and sweet-tempered. Rajinder kept backing away, the dog kept approaching her too close for comfort. Eventually its owner showed and called her dog off.

It's also a cultural thing. As well as personal feelings about animals, I suppose. Though her daughter, with three young children, living in Toronto adopted a little poodle-mix dog. And she seems to be fine with that.  Mind, her daughter's dog is well-behaved and the oldest of the grandchildren, a boy, has learned how to look after the dog, in everyone's best interests.

 

Yesterday, Canada Day, we saw vanishingly few people in the ravine. Today, Saturday, a different story. We set out as has become our normal for hot summer days, before breakfast. And at the beginning of our circuit we came across quite a few people we'd never seen before. There was a young couple walking a beautiful dog, and a young family with a small child. Our little group of four, Irving, me and Jackie and Jillie made a very unfavourable impression on those two groups. J&J indulged in their usual unmannerly conduct, barking and rushing toward anyone they don't know. Which led to the little boy being picked up protectively and pursed lips of condemnation all around.

After admonishing our two imps who had ignored my orders to stop barking and return to us, I cheerily bid these people good morning, apologizing for all the fuss, and they stone-facedly ignored me. I said to the woman holding her lovely dog back on leash that our two shrimps meant no harm they wouldn't bother her dog. She retorted that they were 'bothering ME', as she huffed off with her tail-wagging dog. Which led Irving to be rather impolite in response. Not a very good start to an anticipated energetic and pleasant ravine hike.

After that, it was uphill all the way, both physically and metaphorically, as we came across countless other people, mostly familiar faces and their dogs whom we were comfortable with, from whom our two little dogs' antics elicited smiles and offers of cookies, with the offerers instructing them to biddably 'sit' before the cookies were handed out.

In the ravine, it's a dog's world.

And they were amply represented in the ravine today, dogs of all sizes, breeds, colours and temperaments. Fine encounters, all. Jackie and Jillie bark 'Hi there!' to all the dogs they know. And the other dogs bark back 'Oh no, you two -- AGAIN!'. Well, it was a beautiful day, and the right time to come out to enjoy it before the onset of the day's heat. As it was, the sun was dazzling, making us grateful for the shade of the forest canopy, a relief from the challenge to our eyes, and appreciation for the lovely cool breeze and the shade for relief from the building heat.