Jackie and Jillie are almost nine years old. You'd think they'd be accustomed to being ministered to by the wonderful young women who love and coddle them when we take them to the groomers. They don't complain actually, know exactly what's happening when we drive into the little complex containing the veterinary clinic and the spa. They're familiar with the groomers, and it's usually the same young women who look after each of them. 

 

 

Jillie was fine when she was being sheared. But when it came to bath time she absolutely balked. She complained bitterly all the while she was being bathed and was a stubbornly difficult little pup. This happened once before with her, over a year ago. Jackie, on the other hand, is fairly blase, even though he doesn't really like being handled. Jillie was slightly baleful afterward, and last night Jackie slept hard up against my back all night; unusual for him, they're neither of them cuddlers except when Irving is relaxing reading on the sofa.

 

 

They're also affected by weather. When it's dark and rainy and cool they tend to be a little moody. The very conditions when I literally have to haul Jillie out-of-doors to do her necessaries. Jackie doesn't mind the rain. But once they've been out and come back into the house after Irving has towelled them down, they both follow me, leap up at me and won't desist until I give them the petting they're demanding.

 

 

The rain did stop eventually in late afternoon, but the temperature rose no more than to 8C, so it was cool and we thought it might rain again, so J&J wore raincoats and so did we. First off, entering the trail to the ravine Irving noticed that the posts closing the main trail access had been shoved aside, and when we looked down at the trail, we could see the impression of a heavy-tread vehicle in the sodden soil. I had just then been thinking it would be a while before the forest management crew would tend to the fallen pine across the trail, given the weather.

 

 

So now we have access once again to the main trail, but it is beyond strange not to see the towering old pine we've seen for over thirty years at the foot of the trail leading into the ravine. It toppled several weeks ago and since then we've been diverted to a secondary trail to access the circuits we familiarly make every day. The massive trunk was cut into pieces and somehow rolled off the trail. The pine that had stood so proudly for so many years now litters the forest floor.

 

 

It wasn't a sick tree. It was solely it's increasingly precarious perch on the bank of the creek that caused it over time to begin leaning and as the years went by the lean became more and more pronounced. Extreme weather this spring, with inordinately high winds and a lot of freezing rain further weakened its roots' hold on the forest floor. It's a sad sight, the empty space where it once towered, and the remnants of a proud old tree. It wasn't hollow, the wood is in prime condition.

 

 

We also found that the trail leading off to the first bridge across the creek is now suddenly free of ice. It usually takes that stretch of trail far longer than the rest of the forest trails to eventually clear itself of the winter's accumulation of ice. During the course of our circuit we were visited on a few occasions by our puppies' canine friends. Confident that by confronting Irving they can expect cookie rewards. 

 

We're beginning to see that tell-tale haze of green now over the steeple-tops of tall old poplars, and the trails have been peppered with the red florets of maples. Tiny tender foliage is appearing on the forest shrubs as well, the hazelnuts and the dogwoods. We saw the very first of the lilies-of-the-valley beginning to encircle tree trunks. 

 

So far it's been a cool and wet spring, but that's to be expected, here. What was unexpected was the dallying four-day heat and sun event that settled around us several weeks ago that led us to believe that spring had catapulted us into summer. An absurd illusion that the following weeks have since dispelled.