She's the Boss!

Yesterday's rainfall set a record for the date: roughly 27 mmls. That's a lot of wet stuff. Nice to have it at this time of year, but we've got so much to do yet in the garden to ready it for the onset of winter, we'd appreciate a few more dry days. We got that dry day today, despite the heavy overcast. It looked and it felt as though the skies would burst the rain-heavy clouds upon us, but it didn't. In fact, it was milder today than the day before, by far.

Still, jacket weather for us - but Button was enormously relieved not to have to wear a sweater. Not so Riley; he's always glad to be clad. The cooler weather is no delight for him; he shivers unhappily soon as September rounds the calendar. If the weather is sufficiently cool that we need a jacket then we know that the littlest of our dogs needs one too, lest he be made to suffer needlessly.

So she was feeling pretty cocky and pretty good about everything in general, most of all that she was free! to romp about without the imposition of a coat. Her greater size and furry self maintained her body heat nicely, all the more so burning energy through her ravine romp. All that rain of the day before made for an extremely wet, muddy trail system and we did some fairly fancy foot-work to avoid immersing ourselves in the slick stuff.

Button sometimes sidesteps the muck, sometimes heedlessly and happily slithers through it. Riley looks for guidance in his own trail negotiation to us. We've still got plenty of colour, although it's dissipating quickly; each day we see less leaf cover on the increasingly-naked-limbed trees and as a result on some of the trails we can now see through to the backs of houses, dispelling our illusion of back-woods hikes.

We reach a certain junction beside a bench halfway through our regular circuit and Button stops and it's obvious she has something on her mind. She is offering us the opportunity to extend our walk beyond the usual. If we take up her offer we've got to slither down a long hill to access another trail which will lead upwards to another segment of the community behind which the trail system continues.

This isn't the best of days for a more prolonged outing, but she insists and we defer to her wishes. We can almost imagine a satisfied smirk of accomplishment on her black-haired face with its huge button eyes. No problem for the two dogs with their low profile on four legs to negotiate that downhill slide where the piles of foliage, thoroughly drenched, craftily attempt to plunge us into the abyss.

But we gain the upper trail, side-stepping standing pools of muck here and there, and traverse a portion of the trail system that we don't too often get to these days. Much has changed over there. Years ago the very young forest was home to a large number of rabbits and a few red foxes set up in dens. They've long departed with the incursion of new housing units and the accompanying population shift. Still, it's a pleasant diversion and we do the added loop.

When we arrive back close to the point where we had departed from the norm, our usual circuit beckons and we continue. Button, though, appears to have become besotted with her justly-acknowledged trail-blazing abilities and stops again at another division of the trails. This one leads down to a small bridge located across one of the smaller creek run-offs. Again, we allow her to lead and she does that, jauntily. Actually, we think she's pretty smart, and it makes us chuckle to watch her so confidently leading us.

Back up to another ridge, and once again we're on less trodden pathways. This time she doesn't stop to ask if we'd like to diverge from the usual. She allows us to maintain the main trail and she goes off on her own to a side trail paralleling the one we're on for a short distance. When we're re-united, Riley rushes to greet her, and she approaches us, stumpy tail wagging, waiting for praise and a bit of petting. We don't disappoint her and make much of her adventures.

She's so smart, we gloat to one another. She's just the way she was when she was a puppy; a good companion, adventurous, all-knowing. Then our attention is grabbed by her too-familiar yet peculiar stance. She's about to demonstrate yet another talent. We shout out and are relieved we nipped her in the bud - about to roll in some disgustingly aged and mellow dump.

That's our old puppy, all right.