The voice at the other end was that of one of the veterinarians where we take Jackie and Jillie for their physicals and vaccinations. I just knew when the telephone rang shortly after we returned home what to expect; some inner voice 'told me' that call would be a disturbing one. But the reason we decided to use the spa next to and part of the animal  hospital we've used for decades was their proximity. One of the groomers had bathed Jillie and was blowdrying her hair preparatory to cutting it, when suddenly as we were told, Jillie became frantically upset, crying and acting out. Frightening the young women enough that they took Jillie next door so a vet could check her out.

They had no idea why she was hysterical, crying and yelping. According to the vet she seemed fine physically and he was able to calm her. She was taken back to the spa and they would let her rest then try to groom her, and if she resisted, they'd leave it for another appointment. Meanwhile, Jackie was being attended to. Jillie is not high-strung, Jackie is. They've been to this spa, handled by the groomers often enough. She knows them, they know her, so this behaviour was wildly uncharacteristic. She let loose her bowels and she peed. That too is unlike her.

We think that what happened is that whoever was drying her hair may have had the dryer on too hot a cycle and Jillie had been burned, though there was nothing visible to support that theory. When we picked them up there was no sign of any ordeal. They were just both of them beside themselves with joy to see us; Jillie was spinning excited circles, eager to be taken home. For a treat once home I cubed up a nectarine and part of a bell pepper between them. And as soon as we got home Irving took the bright little ribbons out of Jillie's hair. I can't persuade him not to.

This was a busy day. We had decided not to do the grocery shopping as usual on Tuesday because Monday was a holiday and Tuesday was the first day of the lockdown being relaxed with stores permitted to reopen. We woke earlier than usual this morning and left our two puppies crying, wailing and whining and howling as though they were being tortured, left alone, bereft of our presence.

We arrived just as the store opened and found the shelves good and full of fresh produce despite our concerns they wouldn't be. Re-stocking shelves has become paramount, after some experiences we've had where shelves had been cleared out the days previously and not properly re-stocked for early morning shoppers. We're seeing more people going along to do their shopping earlier in the day like us of late.

Soon after breakfast and the following clean-up we decided we'd take an earlier than usual ravine hike, despite the -11C temperature and windy conditions. The sun was illuminating the house interior with its super-wattage and we thought that by late morning hiking conditions through the snow of the storm of the day before in the ravine would have improved by people making their way through the trails. We soon discovered otherwise. 

The snow is plentiful and high and though it's been somewhat tamped down on the trails, it remains untrodden completely; the result being an excess remaining of soft snow interspersed with bootprints, an uneven surface with slippery conditions throughout. As exhausting as it was yesterday to tramp through the new snow, it was just the same today. Slow slogging, stopping now and again to rest and catch breath briefly, stilling our beating hearts, resting aching leg muscles before carrying on.

 We wanted to give Jackie and Jillie a chance to have their usual daily ramble through the woods because we knew we wouldn't want to take them out after their haircoat had been cut today, even with double jackets for warmth. Chances are it will be slightly more moderate temperature-wise tomorrow and we won't be so concerned. We happened to cross paths with a young woman we've known for decades, pulling herself uphill, her malemute preceding her. She's a lot younger than we are and she was clearly having difficulty attaining the crest of the hill.

The wind was busy whipping snow off branches in long shimmering veils lofted through the air to finally settle on the snowed-in ground. Despite the cold temperature and the wind, we were exerting so much energy in locomotion against the snow along with the effort of maintaining balance that we began to actually feel too warm.

When we completed our circuit with just a few minutes left before we'd have to leave to deliver the puppies to the spa, we came to a growing obstacle attaining the street exiting the ravine, where mounds of snow have been piled high by the municipal plow when it clears the street after a snowfall. In clambering over the mound I slipped, unable to catch my balance and did a complete swan dive. On my back, as it happened, falling ingloriously into the still-soft snowpack and sustaining no injuries much less an ache. I did emerge from the incident resembling a snowman, however.

 

Jillie

The 'spa' we take our puppies to now that I no longer groom them myself (thank heavens that's off my hands now, it's difficult, time-consuming and never as rewarding in a job well done as I'd like it to have been) is located in the old converted single-story house located on a main thoroughfare that had been the location of the veterinarian hospital hospital we take them to. The group of veterinarians who operate the hospital had purpose-built a one-story sprawling building right next to the converted house several years back and decided it would henceforth become a grooming salon. 

Jackie

The old house when it was converted was divided into a multitude of very compact examining rooms. There is one in particular that Jackie and Jillie are always placed in after their grooming has been completed, to await our arrival to bring them back home. The chamber is tiny but it has a floor-length window facing out to the street, and as we walk the narrow path toward the spa in front of their parking lot, our puppies can see us and they leap repeatedly at the window, appealing for us to hurry.

The new protocol is that one person only (in our case two) is permitted entry at a time into the little building's small reception area. You must wear a mask (of course) and wait on the porch, to be admitted. You're there by prearranged appointment, both to deliver and to pick up your charges. So you ring the bell and very soon one of the groomers appears, opens the door to admit you. They wipe down all surfaces, meticulously. There are four of them, all young, sweet young women who handle the pets that are brought to them deftly and lovingly. We have every reason to trust and appreciate them.

They're cheerfully reassuring, and we suffer few pangs now leaving Jackie and Jillie in their care. Before the appointment takes place they now routinely send out a stock questionnaire by email relating to COVID as assurance to them and to us that, as much as possible, they can ensure safety precautions are being taken with respect to virus exposure avoidance. Once completed, your response is emailed back and the appointment is assured. Our appointment was for 1:00 p.m., and it takes an hour and a half before the grooming is completed and we return to retrieve our little rascals.

Jillie comes complete with two tiny pink bows on either side of her head. They don't last long, however; she makes quick work of them, shaking them off her silky hair. Our puppies come out of their ordeal very well; they smell lovely and look sleek. They're so excited it's hard to get them to be still long enough and stop leaping around us so they can be picked up for the short trip outside into a windy snow blizzard and taken to the car. Licks are never-ending, and play havoc with our masks. Eyeglasses mist opaquely because of the masks; outside one minute, indoors the next.

Earlier, in the morning, we had set out when the snow had been falling more thickly and heavily. Ambling up the street toward the ravine entrance it looked as though a trembling white curtain had been placed before us, and thick snowflakes quickly melted on our faces. All the  drab colour of the day before when it had been plus-two degrees and the meagre amount of snow that had fallen the day before that was melting, revealing the dark, decaying leaf mass on the forest floor and now it was all once again disappearing under a fresh blanket of white.

It put a smile on the faces of everyone we came across as we passed on the forest trails. There was, in fact, a surprising number of people out; we saw at least a dozen, mostly with their companion dogs. It was a mean wind that blew, but nowhere near as nasty as it had been up at street level. We saw two incidents where young women slipped with a thump and slid as they carefully made their descent st the top of a few hills. Not enough people are aware of the dangers of freeze-and-thaw and the resulting ice covered with new snow, making for dangerous conditions underfoot.

 Hiking in these woods can constitute quite a challenge, but we've been going through those trails for so many years in all seasons, it would be strange indeed if we weren't aware and accustomed to taking necessary safety precautions. During the winter months, cleats never leave the bottom of our boots. Even so, there are some conditions where even the cleats are hard put to provide traction when on occasion they will slide and not bite securely into the ice.

From time to time Jackie and Jillie will behave as though they're aware of the presence of something or someone we cannot see. And this is when Jillie will offer a sharp, loud challenge, howling for whatever it is to come out and make itself visible. Jackie rarely does that; it's clear he's alert, but hers is the voice we hear; his tendency is to look and sniff about, and then simply get on when nothing out of the ordinary presents itself.